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Chapter Text

Nico found the limit of a demigod's strength after two weeks of starving himself in the fields of Asphodel. He fell, scattering shades, and he felt his heart fluttering, weakening. His vision darkened to a field of black.

His eyes opened to shimmering grey reeds writhing above him. His skull may as well have been fused to the ground, because he could not move. He welcomed it. Welcomed the darkness. He closed his eyes again, willingly this time.

A ghostly whisper echoed in his ears. He ignored it. The sound was too faint to make out; probably a curious shade poking at him. Then, like a drip of cool water on his skin, a kiss was pressed to his forehead.

He shot upright.

“Bianca?” He called out, searching the field. “Bianca!”

None of the shades turned to face him. Their low murmuring and wind-like whispers were the same as they always were, repeating fragments of their earthly conversations among themselves, endlessly looping through mundane, meaningless memories.

If Bianca had been there, she was gone.

Nico sat with his legs splayed. He'd passed out. Had he dreamed her? He had a sick feeling that she may have visited and then left again. It seemed like something she'd do. She had to be in this crowd somewhere.

Nico swallowed. He didn't want to accept it. But the truth was that he would never find Bianca unless she wanted to be found.

He didn't want to think about what that meant for him. He didn't want to question the reason for his searching. He could only go on, wandering, peering into the near featureless faces of the hundreds of thousands of shades.

If he couldn't find her, he could wait for her to choose to find him.

If he died in the process, it could only make it easier.

His stomach was eating itself, but he blocked out the pain, thinking of death. There was little else to think about in the fields of Asphodel. His mind was fuzzy on details. He was so deprived of sleep and food that it simply wasn't functioning at the moment.

The shades didn't feel tired or hungry. There was no want or need in Asphodel. It was grey and eerie and literally lifeless, but it was painless and quiet and in his grief, Nico envied every last one of the lingering ghosts. Whatever had troubled them on earth, they had been freed of the burden and left to rest for eternity. Who could ask for more?

Bianca, he thought. She could ask for rebirth. She might be brave and stupid enough. He couldn't imagine choosing more life, more struggle, when the silent darkness brought him so much solace in his pain. Grief was a knife through the heart no matter where you were, but at least no one in the underworld expected him to socialize.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself to try to stand. He would die down here eventually, which would be convenient. He weighed whether it was better to see his father while he was still alive, or after he was dead. He'd been procrastinating that little task for as long as he'd been down there, hoping to bring Bianca's shade before him so that they could both ask for her resurrection together. Dual puppy dog eyes had worked wonders for them in a pinch. But truthfully, if his father intended to even so much as hear him out, he could just as easily summon her shade to him.

Would Hades hear him out, though? Would he care? Nico didn't have reason to believe his father would deliberately refuse to talk to him, but he figured it would also depend on how busy he was. He didn't have the luxury of checking the underworld schedule and booking a time slot.

Didn't he?

Nico frowned. It began to frustrate him that his mind was so sluggish, because the idea that had coming to him was actually kind of good. Alecto would have Hades' schedule. She'd be able to pencil him in. If she wasn't willing to do that for a son of Hades, Hades would definitely not be willing to resurrect Bianca for him. He may as well find out from Alecto rather than his father.

He took another deep breath and rose onto wobbly legs. Find Alecto, he thought to himself. He had a vague sense of her in the distance. Furies were powerful beings, and this one he knew personally, so his attunement to the underworld ecosystem made it possible for him to just start walking in her direction.

He wandered through the fields, and within a few minutes he reached a clearing. There was a raised platform, circular, like a small arena. It was made of onyx, and the fury Alecto hovered off to one side of it, whip in hand, wings beating the air.

Three men in Greek chitons sat on thrones, set apart on a dais, observing silently. Behind them Nico could just see the fast flowing waters of the dark Styx.

“The punishment is decided,” the man on the right said, raising a hand.

A small figure in the center of the ring shuddered, his incorporeal form shimmering like water. Recently dead, not yet judged, Nico sensed, but as Alecto raised her whip, his interpretation changed. Judged and sentenced, awaiting punishment.

He watched as the fury descended on the huddled figure, and listened as he shrieked when the whip cracked down on his back. It didn't make a sound like a whip; it made more of a hollow thud each time it landed, like flesh hitting flesh. He thought he heard bones crack. That intrigued him.

He waited for the punishment to finish. The mans screams continued for much longer than the punishment, which had been swift.

Alecto fluttered off the platform and over to Nico the moment she was done. Nico eyed the whip in her hand.

“Enjoy the show?” She said, her voice like knives dragged across rusted metal.

Nico cringed at hearing it. It was so much worse when she wasn't pretending to be human.

“What was that about?” He asked.

“He beat his wife. He got her pain. Now he gets the fear,” she said, glancing back. He was still screaming and shaking.

“How long will it last?”

“They were married ten years before he finally killed her,” she said. “So you tell me.”

Nico nodded, understanding.

“Alecto, have you seen my sister? Her shade, I mean? I know she's here somewhere. I have to find her.”

“Yes, obviously,” she said. “She was judged two weeks ago.”

“Tell me everything you know.”

“You're not my supervisor,” Alecto said.

“I'm a son of Hades,” Nico said. He had no clue what that might mean to her, but he waited.

She frowned.

“Fine,” she sighed, and she sent an image to Nico's brain; her memory of Bianca's judgement.

The three judges stared down the twelve year old girl. She stared back at them defiantly.

“A heroic death for a young huntress,” the one in the center said. The other two nodded agreement. “You have merited Elysium,” he continued.

Bianca smiled softly.

“You may also choose rebirth, and attempt to win a place in the Isles of the Blessed,” the man said. “If you live two more heroic lives, you will have your entry.”

Nico wanted to scream at her, 'choose Elysium! Wait for me there!' If only he'd gotten there sooner, he could have intervened. He knew she was in Asphodel, though, knew it in his bones. How?

“I won't remember my past if I'm reborn,” she said, “Right? I won't remember...” She trailed off. She wouldn't remember Nico.

“Nothing will be left,” the center judge said. “Only your soul. No memories, skills, or experiences.”

“You leave with what you came in with,” the man to the right said. “Check your baggage at the door.”

Bianca looked distraught.

“I want to try,” she said. “But...”

The judges glanced at each other.

“We have other people to judge,” the man on the right said. “It's a simple choice. Rebirth, or Elysium.”

“Can I think about it?” Bianca asked.

His eyes nearly popped out of his head.

“That's against policy,” he said.

At that moment, a shadow behind him shuddered, and a man stepped forward who had been waiting, an invisible presence like living darkness. Bianca looked up at him, tall, thin, and pale, with long black hair.

“Daughter,” Hades said. “Come with me.”

He placed a hand on her head and they both disappeared into shadow.

Alecto and the judges stood for a moment, stunned. Then the man in the center called out, “Next!”

“He has her,” Nico said, the vision ending. He looked up at Alecto. “I need to find her. I need to speak with Hades.”

“He hasn't given me any instruction to bring you to him,” Alecto said. “Or to take orders from you. So, no offense to your father, but you can fuck off.”

She and Nico glared at each other for a moment. Nico noticed one of the judges approaching them, and they both turned to look at him.

He appeared to be in his forties, muscular and sturdily built, with a tan that must have been thousands of years old. He had a thick, glossy black beard, well groomed into shining ringlets, and gently curled hair that fell to his shoulders. His dark brown eyes examined Nico with curiosity.

“This is the brother,” Alecto said.

The man's curiosity doubled.

“I am Minos,” the man said, giving Nico a slight bow. “Once mortal king, now tiebreaker judge of the underworld,” he said. “A pleasure.”

“I don't care who you are,” Nico said. “If you won't help me, then stay out of my way.”

“You can't just walk into Hades' palace. It's guarded,” Minos said. “Cerberos will tear you apart.”

“Cerberos is over there,” Nico pointed toward the Styx. He'd narrowly avoided the beast coming in, and had remained very conscious of where it was located.

“Cerberos can be in two places at once,” Minos said. He seemed to think about it, then reached into a pouch at his waist. “Take this,” he said, holding out a hostess cupcake.

“Is this a joke?” Nico's stomach growled at the sight of it, but he put it out of his mind for the moment.

“Cerberos loves them. Especially the left head,” Minos said. “It'll get you through.”

Nico accepted the cupcake cautiously, eyeing Minos.

“Why are you helping me?” He said suspiciously.

Minos shrugged.

“I want to see what your father does,” he said. “This is a first. Humans have come in looking for people only a handful of times,” he said. “But never a child of Hades.”

Nico's vision wavered, and he staggered a little. Minos' hand reached out and steadied him. Nico shrugged him off.

“Whatever,” he muttered, and turned and started walking in the direction of Hades' palace.

“You're welcome,” Minos called out.

“Rude brat,” Alecto hissed.

Chapter Text

Nico faced down Cerberus.

“Good boy. Nice doggie,” he said. “I have a treat for you,” he added, pulling out the cupcake and waving it, mainly at the left head.

The left head started salivating.

“You want it? Go get it!” He said, tossing it as far as his weak little arm could manage, into the darkness. Cerberus ran after it, barking.

He walked into the onyx palace, climbing the stairs and wishing he'd eaten something. He thought of Bianca, and it propelled him forward. She could be waiting for him.

There were skeleton servants running all around, and braziers glowed with blazing coals in every corner, illuminating small patches of darkness with golden light. He saw large gemstones sticking out of the walls, sparkling with bright patches of color that made the palace go from foreboding to beautiful in Nico's eyes.

He was surprised to see side tables laden with food, mostly fruit and cheese, glistening and ripe. He was so hungry he could almost cry looking at it, but it made him think of Persephone and the pomegranate seeds and he didn't dare touch anything. He was grateful it was April and she wouldn't be there.

The palace was Greek in design, very open, and he could see Hades long before he was anywhere near him, his enthroned figure watching him weave around the columns to approach him.

Nico tried not to totally lose his cool. He knelt before his father, operating based on a vague idea of how he thought people did these things.

“Lord father,” he said, and waited. After a few silent breaths, he looked up and saw that Hades was frowning at him.

“I need to know where she is,” he said, as firmly as he could manage.

“She doesn't want to see you,” Hades said.

“What? Why?”

“I neither know nor care,” Hades said.

“Is she here? Is she okay?”

“Foolish boy,” Hades said. “Of course she is here, where else could she be? How can any harm come to her? It is over. She is dead. ”

Nico was devastated. He couldn't begin to process his disappointment; it was all so overwhelming. Tears welled up in his eyes and began streaming down his cheeks.

The lord of the underworld clucked his tongue.

“I don't know what you were thinking, coming here in such a state,” he said.

“Am I not supposed to be sad?” Nico snapped.

“I meant alive.”

“Oh.”

“If you wanted to be with her, you could have killed yourself,” Hades said. “And I told Orpheus the same when he was here on the same errand. You mortals are so selfish. You want to have your cake and eat it too.”

“That's plan B,” Nico said.

“I expressly forbid you from becoming a suicide,” Hades said. “If you dare, I'll ensure you never see your sister again.”

“I thought you didn't care!” Nico said, horrified that he was being forbidden his only other option.

“There is work on earth I often need performed by proxy,” Hades said. “And I hold a slim hope you may yet bring glory to my name. Very, very, very, very slim,” he added slowly.

Nico's soul felt crushed under an unendurable weight.

“Death will come for you in due time,” Hades said. “For all that you know, you could be hit by a discus next Tuesday. I recommend you relax.”

“But Bianca--” Nico said desperately.

“Bianca waits in the fields, in shadow, on some unknown purpose,” Hades said. “There is nothing you can do about it. And I will not get involved. It isn't my fault the two of you chose to get into a dispute shortly before she died,” he huffed. “Poor timing on your part does not entail an emergency on my part.”

Nico had no response to that. He sat, exhausted in body and spirit, hopeless beyond words.

“Now, about the work I need done in the mortal world,” Hades waved a hand and conjured up a piece of papyrus with bullet points in ancient Greek.

“I don't want to work for you,” Nico said. “That's not why I came here.”

“I don't care,” Hades said. “Consider it a fair consequence for barging into my home uninvited and disrupting my employees' workflow. I am on a tight schedule and I had to push back my 10:30 for you. Anyway, I need you to collect the bones of a martyr. Nyx has been bothering me about it and I owe her a favor,” he muttered. “And Apollo borrowed a magic ring from me a thousand years ago and never returned it. I need you to badger him a bit. And then there's Poseidon, he said he'd send me a hippocampus tail, which was also for Nyx-- I need to ask her what all this is for,” he frowned, “And Ganymede--”

The mention of Poseidon made Nico think of Percy.

“I'm not doing all of that,” he said.

“Ganymede borrowed Persephone's dress for a party and then had it dry cleaned, but he didn't pay the bill. They keep sending invoices. That should not be my responsibility,” he intoned angrily. “And you shall tell him so.”

“Please just let me kill myself,” Nico said.

“I'm having you put on Charon's no ride list,” Hades said. “You can be taken off it when your chores are done. Now take your list and go. Eat something before you leave. You'll not cheat your way out of your duty to your father by starving to death in my house.”

Nico snatched the list and stormed out of the room. He could not believe his bad luck. If he was on the no ride list, he'd be stuck living until he was done with his chores, leaving him no choice but to finish them.

The most infuriating part was that he couldn't even be properly angry with Hades. Bianca was deliberately avoiding him, and it was beginning to dawn on him, painfully, that he was far angrier with her than he was with his father. She'd abandoned him three times now-- leaving, dying, and then ignoring his attempts to contact her in the afterlife. He had no choice now but to try to force her to speak with him, and he had no idea if he could even do that.

He stood in the hallway and started pulling grapes off a nearby vine and eating them, thinking about how one would summon a ghost. He didn't know where to start. He'd done everything thus far by instinct, but it wasn't there now that he needed it.

As the grapes hit his stomach, he began to feel desperately hungry, but nauseous at the same time. It wasn't comfortable to continue eating, but his hand kept plucking the grapes and putting them in his mouth without pause. So that was where his instincts had gone, he thought, redirecting his steps to a table laden with a feast. Dishes of figs, overflowing vats of honey, succulent roast lamb and fish all covered the table. He slid onto one of the benches and started in on the figs, dipping them in honey and eating them with chunks of feta. It tasted literally divine, and he sampled everything he could. No wonder Persephone had eaten the pomegranate seeds, he mused. She must have had incredible willpower to avoid eating her weight in suckling pig with crispy skin.

Before too long Nico felt that he had to stop, because he was beginning to feel tired and sick in a different way from before, other sensations outweighing hunger. He was becoming very thirsty, and he took a gulp from a goblet on the table.

It was wine, a good red wine that tasted familiar, but it made him feel even thirstier. He set the goblet down and peered into a pitcher on the table.

It looked like golden honey and pale cream mixed together, but watery. It smelled wonderful. He sipped it.

It was the best thing he'd ever tasted. Suddenly his thirst was gone, his hunger vanished, and his mind felt clear. He took another gulp and felt like he could run a marathon.

He poured out the pitcher into the goblet, pouring it over the wine because he was in too much hurry to pour that out first. He took a long drink and sighed, his vision practically blurring with a golden aura of joy.

Actually, his vision really was blurring with a golden aura. He drained the goblet and refilled it, intrigued by the fuzzy feeling overcoming him. He took one final sip, then slumped over.

He had strange dreams and felt strange sensations. He heard voices above him, new ones and familiar ones. He felt cold hands lift him and carry him, Hades' voice muttering angrily. He felt those same cold hands brush across his skin, then warm ones, someone touching his forehead and the tips of his fingers.

And he remembered. He was in Italy with his mother and Bianca. He sat on the floor playing while his mother brushed Bianca's hair, the two of them chattering in Italian. He felt two large, cold hands lift him up from behind, and looked up to see Hade's face, smiling at him. He wrapped his arms around his father's neck and was carried onto a balcony. He looked out at a building he felt he ought to know the name of, a huge columned temple with a dome for a roof, with words written across the front that he couldn't read, but for one: Agrippa. It didn't mean anything to him, but it had been seared onto his young brain and preserved in memory.

“Beautiful, isn't it?” Hades said. Nico nodded. Hades said something to Maria over his shoulder, waved a hand, and then shadow traveled with Nico inside the building.

It must have been closed, because it was dark, but Hades waved a hand and lit torches around the room.

The dome of the ceiling made Nico gasp with awe. There was a round portal at the apex of the dome, surrounded by hundreds of square insets that cast fascinating shadows all around the room.

He reached up to grasp, not at the light streaming down from above, but at a shadow that flickered on the edge of the torchlight. As he reached for it, it reached back.

Hades laughed, an icy, bone chilling sound

“That's my boy,” he said. He waved a hand, and the dark shadows behind each torch took on the shape of animals that began dancing around the edges of the room.

Nico exclaimed with joy, “Belissima!”

Then the dream ended.

“Wake up,” Bianca said. “Wake up, stupid. I need you to wake up.”

He blinked his eyes open.

Chapter Text

Standing in a doorway was a figure it took Nico a moment to recognize.

“Minos?” He said, squinting.

Minos turned and ran down the hallway. 

“Lord Hades!” He called. “He's awake!”

Nico sat up. His voice had been hoarse; he hadn't sounded right. He felt fine, and very awake, but something was off.

He was lying on a golden couch, with a white linen sheet pulled over him almost like a shroud. He went to pull the sheet off, then paused. He didn't remember his fingers being so... long. Long and white and elegant, like his father's. His nails used to be shredded to nubs, but they were perfect now. How long had he slept? 

He pulled the blanket off of himself and gasped. He was not at all the same as he'd been before. He pulled it back onto himself, panicking, then slowly looked again.

He was not in the body of a malnourished ten year old anymore. He looked... Adolescent. 

A chill went down his spine. Puberty didn't normally happen this fast, right? Had something happened to him? 

He examined his skin. He was still very pale, with only the slightest hint of olive tone to his skin. His complexion usually looked unhealthy and nearly dead, but for some reason now there was a glow about him that actually looked... Nice? He couldn't call it a tan, but like he was hydrated, maybe? He'd never eaten healthy, exercised, or drank water really at all, so he didn't know what health looked like on him, especially in a new body. 

Hades glided in, folding his arms across his chest and glowering. Nico looked up at him.

“What did you do?” They both said at once.

“I expressly ordered you not to kill yourself,” Hades said.

“I didn't!” Nico said. “I just fell asleep! What's happened to me?” He realized with horror that he wasn't hoarse, his voice had changed, and it was just deeper now. 

“You overdosed on Ambrosia,” Hades said. “Hypnos had to put you into a coma to save your life. You do realize that ambrosia is expressly not for mortals, do you not? It's meant only to be ingested in small quantities. The camp didn't teach you that?”

Nico barely recalled paying attention to Chiron's lessons, even though he was only in them a few weeks ago. Still, they felt incredibly distant in his memory. He realized that his dreams, or what he had thought were dreams, had stayed with him. Everything he'd relived while he was unconscious was now seared into his mind as though it had really happened, visceral and emotive.

“Zeus killed her,” he said.

Hades raised his eyebrows.

“You remember that?” 

“I remember everything. Italy. The explosion,” he said. “Alecto dunking us in the Lethe.”

“Ambrosia healed the memory loss,” Hades said. “That was... Unanticipated.”

“I drank a lot of it,” Nico said. “That feels so long ago now. But also like it just happened.”

“You are fortunate my wife took pity on you,” Hades said. “Without her skill you might have been lost.”

“Yeah,” Nico said. He was distracted looking for Bianca's shade. He still sensed her in Asphodel. That hadn't changed. “I still need to see Bianca.”

“Nothing has changed since last we spoke with regards to her,” Hades said. “Or with regards to your chores! Do you know how many invoices I've received for that dry cleaning in the time you've been lying here, lazing about?”

“How, uh,” he swallowed. “How long was I asleep?” 

“Time does not exist in the underworld the way it does elsewhere,” Hades said. “There is no way to answer you.”

“But... I look older. A lot older.”

Hades shrugged. 

“I have observed you regularly,” he said. “Merely to ascertain whether you would wake to complete your chores. I noticed no drastic change.”

If Hades hadn't noticed him growing older, it couldn't have happened that quickly after all. A pit grew in Nico's stomach. When he'd come down here initially, he'd felt so intensely focused on Bianca, and he couldn't be bothered to worry about missing camp. Now that he knew Bianca had waited in stasis all this time, though, it crossed his mind that things in the mortal world might be drastically different now. It was a frightening thought to have missed so much.

“Stand up,” Hades said, “Let me look at you.”

“But I don't want to--”

A glare from Hades set him to standing, yanking the sheet up with him for modesty. Hades squinted at him.

“I distinctly remember feeling that you resembled a drowned rat,” he said. “That ambrosia fixed it. You're far less of an embarrassment to me now.”

Nico hated himself for how good that felt to hear. He had such low self-esteem that even backhanded compliments were better than nothing.

“That's good, because I've added a few chores that might require a modicum of social tolerability,” he said. “I've got no confidence in you, but you may as well make an attempt at them if you're capable of refraining from giving offense.”

“I can't do stuff like that,” Nico said.

Hades ignored him.

“Where is my patient?” Persephone said, gliding in. She was a petite, soft looking woman in a pink dress, with long brown waves of hair woven with flowers. It was the first time Nico had ever met his stepmother, but she must have felt familiar with him after treating him, because she didn't seem at all uncomfortable.

“I was just telling him how you saved his life,” Hades said forcefully, glaring at Nico.

Nico fumbled with his sheet to be sure he was covered and bowed.

“Thank you, goddess,” he said, nervous at the introduction. Ancient Greek wives didn't tend to be kind to their husbands' extramarital offspring, a fact he'd learned from Mythomagic, and he felt very aware of it in her presence.

“It was no trouble,” she said. “I'm very pleased with my handiwork. My herbs improved you quite a bit,” she said, reaching out and tugging on one of his dark curls, which did look very shiny and bouncy. He hadn't realized his hair was grown out to his shoulders until she did that. 

“Look at him, dear,” she mused. “Like you as a youth! If you were ever a youth,” she added. 

“A secret lost to history,” Hades muttered. 

Nico didn't see his father as handsome, more austere, but nobody compared mortals to gods in their appearance unless they were being hyperbolic. But if she'd given him herbs to make him look better--

“Come, pet,” she said. “Let's get you dressed up properly.”

“He has chores,” Hades said.

“You won't send him to see Apollo dressed in rags, my dear,” she said. “Nor Ganymede. Imagine the cutting little comments he'd make? I know it would reflect badly on our house.”

“Fine,” Hades sighed. “Go and appease her, boy. Be polite,” he intoned darkly.

She escorted him to another wing of the palace. 

“This will be your room,” she said. “Do you like it?” 

It was an onyx walled room with very little furniture beside a stone bed and a torch that was just a skull with flames coming out of the eyes.

“Yes,” he said, mainly talking about the skull. He shuffled around the room and looked around, feeling kind of awkward talking to her in just a sheet until he realized that was pretty much all anyone wore down here to begin with.

“You may be wondering why I've decided to tolerate you,” she said. “For one thing, I'm not Hera. I think the way she treats her stepchildren is tacky. Secondly, I'm only here half the time. Obviously our marriage is nontraditional, and we like it that way. Well, I do. Hades doesn't dare gripe about me being gone so long when proof of his infidelity is hanging around. That suits me fine.”

That made some sense to Nico, and it was a relief.

“I don't plan on being around much,” he murmured. “I won't bother you.”

She looked at him, puzzled.

“I wasn't under the impression you had anywhere else to go,” she said bluntly. “I know you don't have a cabin at camp. Your father is always ranting about the offense to him.”

He swallowed. 

“I can figure something out,” he said. He looked down at his hands. “I'm older now,” he said. “I can take care of myself.”

She clucked her tongue. 

“We don't mind you staying,” she said. “It's nice to have a little life down here. Your father is so bored and stressed out most of the time. It's good for him to have you shaking things up a little. Gives him something new to rant about.”

Nico found it hard to believe that, but he held his tongue. 

“Get a couple chores crossed off that list, then come back,” she said. “He'll be pleased to see you, even if he doesn't say it. But in the meantime, go and live,” she said. “Enjoy your youth. Savor being up there with the sun and the sky,” she said, grasping his hands. “Then come back and tell me about it.

She left Nico to dress alone. She'd given him a very normal outfit, a plain white t-shirt and jeans, which he was grateful for. He'd probably swap the white for a band shirt and rip the jeans up a bit, but it would work.

He wished there was a mirror, but there wasn't. He hurried out to see his father in the throne room.

“Father,” he said. 

Hades frowned.

“Shouldn't you be leaving?”

“I will. If you promise to help me speak to Bianca.”

Hades towered over him, throwing shadows all around.

“You dare make demands of me,” he snarled.

Nico wasn't afraid of him. They may not have a good relationship anymore, but Hades had cared for him too much when he was small to hurt him now. Even if it was for his mother's sake that he spared him, Nico knew he would. 

Hades saw that he didn't tremble, and he retreated.

“For your cheek,” he muttered. “Another task. One you will find... Challenging,” he grinned cruelly. “When you complete it, along with the others, only then will I teach you a way you can summon the dead from Asphodel and speak to them.”

“Really?” Nico said, relieved.

“Really,” Hades said.

“Alright,” he said. “I'll get them done in no time. Just wait.”

He shadow traveled away.

Chapter Text

He was nearly hit by a bus. He stumbled to one side, feeling a rush of air as the bus blew past. He stumbled, dazed, to a sidewalk, where he caught his breath, nauseous and exhausted from traveling.

Pedestrians gave him a wide berth, staring at him curiously. When he'd caught his breath, he stared back. 

Everyone around him looked East Asian, and he could see Chinese characters on buildings and signage. He didn't know very much about Asian languages, so he couldn't be sure, but he thought he might be in China. He knew it was a huge country, so odds were good that was where he'd accidentally landed.

He walked down the street, his stomach rumbling. In the underworld he hadn't been hungry at all, an aftereffect of the ambrosia, probably, but now he was ravenous. 

He found a familiar sign glowing in the distance and headed toward it. KFC, there was no mistaking it. He hurried inside and found a menu with pictures, and hastily pointed at the cheapest thing he saw.

It occurred to him too late that he had no money, until he patted his pocket instinctually and found something there. A credit card-- black, no writing on it.

He handed it to the cashier tentatively. She didn't seem put off by dealing with a foreigner who didn't understand what she was saying. She swiped the card and the order rang up immediately.

She handed it back, and before she could turn away, Nico placed another, much larger order. She took it in stride and ran the card again. No issue this time either.

Nico stood in a corner to wait for his food, heart racing. It made sense his father had given him some money; he was the god of wealth, after all, and Nico was working for him-- but the windfall was unexpected and very exciting. It struck him that he could go wherever he wanted, after some recovery time and maybe a little studying of maps. Time moved differently in the underworld, and it seemed like his father and Bianca both would wait at least a while longer. Nico could do literally anything.

A crushing sense of sadness invaded suddenly, as it dawned on him that without Bianca here, there was nothing worth doing anymore. He didn't want to see the world if they couldn't be together. He didn't know how to live without her.

He collected his food and found a park to sit and eat in. It had pathways lined with giant trees and a huge lake full of little boats. Families paddled around in the boats, laughing and making memories, and he watched them, eating mindlessly, feeling hollow. 

Persephone had told him to appreciate this, he recalled, and he felt bad that he couldn't. He walked out to a bridge and stood on it, leaning on the railing and looking out over the water. He tried to see his face in the reflection, but it wasn't clear enough. There were lotus buds filling the lake beneath the bridge, but they hadn't bloomed, just little green bundles awaiting their glorious birth. The goddess of spring hadn't visited them yet, he thought, throwing a piece of KFC biscuit out to the ducks.

Suddenly, all at once, the lotuses burst into life, like an explosion of pink starburst colored glory. There was something about them that was larger, brighter, more vibrant than seemed entirely natural. 

The people in the boats exclaimed with joy and began taking photos. Nico quirked a smile as Persephone spoke inside his mind.

“Try to have fun, dear. You're not dead yet.”

“Thank you,” he said, meaning it. He'd needed that small act of kindness. It helped push him forward.

Bianca, he thought. I have to do these chores if I want to see Bianca. He looked down at the list.

He didn't know the first thing about how to get in touch with these people, but a handful of them lived on Olympus, so that would have to be his first stop. It left a bad taste in his mouth, but if his father had refused to go there for decades, it only made sense that Nico would have to go in his place. 

If he recalled correctly, Olympus was on the top of the Empire State Building. He didn't like his odds of making it all the way to North America in his current state, and he wasn't willing to risk drowning in the Pacific ocean, but it struck him that Olympus might still be reachable from Greece, too. There must be a way. 

He'd need a computer, and wifi, and sleep, and some practice traveling. Okay, he could handle that, the thought, standing and heading to a tourist information booth.

The information booth worker was a friendly young man named Wang Jianyu. He spoke English, and informed Nico very helpfully that he was in Beihai park in Beijing, China. Wang Jianyu went out of his way to assist Nico in locating a place to stay.

“Thanks so much,” Nico said, armed with directions to an international hostel nearby. “I appreciate it.”

“Stay safe, young man,” the man added, smiling. “Enjoy Beijing. Be sure to try some local cuisine and not just KFC.”

“I will,” Nico said, and headed towards his temporary home.

The hostel staff all spoke English, and he booked himself a private room without issues. The hostel itself had a large courtyard with a koi pond and picnic tables, a game room, and a computer room with internet. He felt really lucky to have found it with Wang Jianyu's help. Yet another person had been kind to him today. He wasn't sure if he was really that pitiful, a child in a teenager's body wandering scared and alone in a foreign land, but even the hostel staff seemed worried about him. He'd have to try to be more stoic and collected if he were going to Olympus. He could do this, he thought. He had to.

He found his room with no trouble, walking in to find a small, tidy bed with the hostel logo printed on them. It was a little panda holding a sign saying “Welcome to Panda International Traveler's Lodge,” and winking. 

Nico wasn't the biggest fan of cute stuff, but Bianca would have loved it. She adored pandas, baby seals, puppies, kittens, stuff like that. Tears filled his eyes, and he slumped on the bed, trying not to start crying. If he started, he'd probably never stop, and he had to keep pushing forward. He could see her again if he just persevered.

He glanced up and nearly jumped out of his skin. There was a mirror on the wall next to the bed. He'd caught a glimpse of himself and thought there was a stranger in his room. He stood slowly and peeked at this person in the mirror that he didn't recognize anymore.

He was tall, thin, but not skeletal like he had been. He actually had visible muscle tone on his arms. He pulled his shirt up and saw a flat white stomach with faint suggestions of abdominal muscles. 

He ran his hand across them slowly, following them down to his waistband. He paused there, feeling like he wasn't ready to confront the rest of the changes yet. He'd been ten a few days ago. He didn't know a lot about puberty, and he felt overwhelmed thinking about all the weird, gross milestones he'd slept through. He'd deal with it later, he told himself, turning his attention to his face. 

He did look like his father. He and Hades shared the same prominent nose, but Hade's was thinner and longer, and his was more Roman. His eyebrows were thicker and longer than before, squared, framing his dark eyes. His jaw was more square, his chin pointed like his dad's, and his cheekbones were visible; his face still looked thin as it always had, his skin white as ivory.

He was sort of handsome, he thought. Gross. He didn't like the thought of people looking at him and thinking that. He affected a glower. That helped him feel more like himself.

He was too tired to keep looking at himself. It was only exhausting him more with the weirdness of it. He crawled into bed, sighing deeply. He was a teenager. It was so weird, but worse, it was sad. He was older than Bianca would ever get to be. 

He corrected himself. She'd become an immortal huntress at twelve; she'd chosen not to grow up. He'd have always out-aged her eventually. She'd chosen, happily, to leave him alone to age and die, without her, while she'd live out a fantasy of eternal youth.

And she'd died. So much for that. A deep, dark part of him found the irony almost funny. Almost. But he didn't want to think about that. He fell asleep, feeling angry and sad and sick.

After his nap, he woke up ready to research a way to Olympus. He headed to the computer room and looked up Mount Olympus on Wikipedia. 10,000 people climbed it each year. He figured at least some of those people had to be demigods visiting their parents.

How to get there, though... He'd have to travel a good distance west. He couldn't fly; he didn't have a passport or ID, so he'd shadow travel. 

He went out shopping that morning and bought a few days worth of snacks and drinks, a black backpack and a dark grey sweatshirt. He replaced the sandals he'd gotten from Persephone with sneakers and got a black beanie for warmth.

The last thing he bought was a blanket. He tucked his supplies into his backpack, then stepped into a dark alleyway and took a deep breath.

“West,” he thought, picturing the landmark he'd seen on Google Images. “West. I can do this.”

He shadow traveled, and fell through darkness to an unknown destination.

It was night when he arrived. He looked around, squinting, but all he saw were square houses surrounding him, a residential neighborhood. Windows and doors were all shut. He saw nothing to indicate where he was.

He started walking until he found a bench he could nap on, to regain his strength for more traveling. He pulled out his blanket and pulled it over him.

He woke in the morning to an old woman shaking him awake. He couldn't understand her, so he just stood and apologized a few times, then ran away. To his surprise, she followed him, still talking, and he let her catch up to him.

She took his arm and dragged him to a house. A large family was sitting down eating breakfast. She shoved him in front of the table and indicated for him to eat with them.

“Do any of you speak English?” He asked. A few of them shook their heads no. “Bukhara?” He said, naming the city he'd intended to go to as a rough halfway point.

“Zimovki,” the old woman said. She pointed West. “Bukhara,” she said, indicating the direction with wave. 

Nico was thrilled he'd gotten relatively close. After the meal he bid goodbye to them gratefully and traveled again, picturing heading west, to Greece, to Olympus.

He didn't make it. He was in a bustling city, with a huge domed building with minarets to one side of him. He found signs in English. Istanbul, he read, the sign swimming with ancient Greek and English and Arabic letters mixing up together. Hagia Sophia, he made out, and looked up at the building. 

It was stunning. The weather was beautiful, and the city was full of interesting shopping, fragrant food, and fascinating architecture. He looked around, and, not seeing a convenient place to sleep that wouldn't lead to his arrest relatively quickly, he walked into the first hotel he found and rented a room. He ordered himself a ridiculous amount of room service, then fell asleep and forgot he ordered it.

He woke up to knocking on the door, and groggily stumbled out to find a tray full of food waiting for him. He'd ordered a bean salad, meatballs, dumplings, and a family sized pistachio baklava.

He devoured it all very quickly. It occurred to him that he was eating a lot more than he used to; he remembered that during his lonely days at camp he'd often subsisted on a handful of gummy bears and a piece of toast for an entire day of physical activities. Shadow traveling made him tired and hungry, but he wondered if he also had to make up for not eating during his Abrosia induced coma.

He glanced up and had an idea. He opened the window curtain and let the sunlight in. He didn't recoil from it, exactly, but it was a close one. 

He put a piece of baklava on a plate and set it in front of the view, in the sunshine. 

“Hi,” he prayed to Persephone. “Am I doing this right?”

The baklava disintegrated in a little flare of smoke and light.

“Hm. Pretty good,” she said through his mind. “Almost as good as the Greek kind.”

“Are those better?”

“I'm just kidding. They're both lovely. Although you can make up your own mind when you get to Greece. That is a beautiful view, though,” she said. “Keep going. I'll be watching over you.”

He felt her presence leave him, feeling brighter and warmer than he had before. He understood why his father had stolen her. He was becoming a big fan of his stepmom.

He thought about sleeping some more, but he wasn't tired any longer. He felt buoyed by Persephone's support, and decided to do something she'd approve of and explore for just a little bit longer. He walked to the Hagia Sophia and got a ticket to see the interior. 

The scale of it was vast and indescribably beautiful, with intricate details throughout the imposing domes and archways inside. He was fascinated by the colors and patterns, the way the light glowed through the windows, and the quiet majesty that surrounded him. 

For a little while, surrounded by so much beauty, his mind was quiet. He read the signs, learned the history of the place, and found himself thinking of Bianca a little less than usual. He walked out contentedly, and shadow traveled to Greece, his heart feeling a little lighter. 

He arrived in the middle of the night, but he could tell immediately that he'd come to the right place. He could actually see Mount Olympus in front of him, looming in the night sky. It wasn't all that impressive looking.

He was standing in a parking lot, and he was pretty sure he'd made it to Litochoro, the town where Wikipedia said most hikers began their journeys. All he needed to do now was locate someone with a connection to the gods and ask if there was a trick to getting to Olympus. He really didn't feel like climbing all that way.

He strolled down the street, seeing small buildings, closed shops and offices. It looked like restaurants were still open. He wasn't too hungry or tired this time. Istanbul hadn't really been that far away compared to his previous journeys. 

He passed by the small Greek restaurants, brightly lit and filled with music and lively conversation. It annoyed him that he could understand Ancient Greek but not modern. How unhelpful was that? They didn't even sound anything alike to his ears.

Luckily, he passed a restaurant that had a big picture of the leaning tower of Pisa and a picture of lasagna on the sign, and he stepped in.

“Do you speak Italian?” He asked the waitress, a dark haired young woman with tired eyes.

“Yes,” she responded.

“Can you tell me if there's anywhere I can talk to someone who knows about the ancient gods?” He asked. “Someone who goes up and down the mountain a lot?”

She frowned, thinking. 

“My mom would know,” she said. “Come to the back with me.”

She led him to the back of the kitchen, where a middle aged heavyset woman was stirring a pot of soup.

“Mama, this man wants to know where he can find a history expert who also hikes,” the waitress said.

“Why?” The woman looked at him, baffled, gesturing her confusion. It made Nico smile immediately; it reminded him of his grandmother, who had gesticulated a lot even by Italian standards.

“Sorry, I should explain,” he said. “I need to talk to someone about a project I'm working on about the ancient gods. It needs to be someone who knows something about them, but they have to be really into it. Maybe in a way that seems almost religious? But not in a weird new age way.”

“Madonna,” she said, touching the cross that hung around her neck. “Do I look like I know anybody like that? You think I hang out with those crazy ladies?”

“I'm only asking you because I don't speak Greek,” he said. “I didn't mean any offense. Um, crazy ladies?”

“We have some weird people living in this town,” the waitress said. 

“Those women drive me crazy,” her mother said. “Sit down. What's your name?”

“Nico di Angelo,” he said. 

“Nico, I'm Rosa Bova and this is my daughter Maria.”

“My mom was named Maria too,” he said. 

“We must have been destined to meet,” she smiled. “Your mother is no longer with us?”

He nodded.

Rosa stood and started getting him soup.

“I really don't want to bother you,” Nico said as she set a bowl and spoon in front of him.

“Too late to stop her now. It's just how she is,” Maria reassured him, patting his hand. “Oh. You're very cold. Are you okay?”

“Just how I am,” he muttered. 

“Where are you from?”

“Venezia,” he said. “But more recently from the states. I was going to school there.”

“We're from Napoli,” she said. “But my stepdad was Greek. We moved here to be closer to his family. He passed away last year.”

“I'm sorry,” he said.

“He was the second father I've lost,” Maria said quietly, looking at her mother, who was pulling chicken out of the oven. “Mom had a heart attack a few months ago. She's not recovered, but she won't listen to the doctors and slow down. I'm... I'm sorry,” she said, looking embarrassed. “I'm not sure why I told you that. You don't want to hear my problems.”

“I understand,” he said. “I lost my mom a few years ago. And my sister died... Kind of recently. I guess not technically that recently, but it feels like it was.”

“It just comes and goes at random, doesn't it?” Maria asked. “My stepdad was a huge presence. A big, loud man. Everyone in town knew him and loved him. With him gone, it's like a big black hole in the world opened up. I'm just trying to keep my mom from falling into it. And me.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Nico said.

“It's hard enough without my mom having health problems right now,” Maria said, pushing her hair out of her face. “I'm so scared I'm going to lose her too.”

Nico watched Rosa bringing plates out to customers. He could hear her voice chattering to them in broken Greek, words of Italian sprinkled in at random. There was a sense of death around her, hovering like a flock of dark birds, but it was hard to say if it was lingering from a brush with it or an impending, more final event. Probably both.

“I'm sorry,” Nico said. “I would be freaking out too if I were you.”

Maria sighed, leaning her head on her hand. 

“Life is pain,” she muttered.

“It is,” Nico agreed.

Maria smiled at him. 

“The ladies my mom was talking about live two houses down, at the Muses Cafe,” she said. “They're a bunch of weird sisters that put on performances and stuff. They do a lot of ancient plays and poetry recitals. Sometimes I think they really believe they are the nine muses,” she muttered. “Except their music and writing and stuff? No good. None of it. Nothing divine about them,” she snorted. “They don't hike, so I didn't think they were the people you were looking for. But my mom was right, they might be a good place to ask.”

Nico wondered about that. If they were the nine muses, they were supposed to be talented, right? He wasn't an expert on them, so maybe he'd misunderstood. 

Rosa hurried back into the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron that was covered in pictures of tomatoes and bulbs of garlic.

“Eat, child, eat your soup,” she told Nico. He nodded and started eating.

“I told him about the cafe women,” Maria told her mother.

“Good,” Rosa said. “Come here and help me make this tiramisu. And give our guest some of that focaccia I made this afternoon.”

“I really should go,” he said, stuffing his mouth full of the focaccia Maria handed him.

“Nonsense, the chicken's almost ready.”

Nico found himself trapped in the loving prison that was an Italian kitchen, as Rosa continued to feed him while dashing in and out of the restaurant to take care of the paying patrons, too.

“She's an unstoppable force,” Maria sighed, coming back to sit down at the table when all the restaurant guests had left and the place was empty. She poured herself a glass of red wine, and gave Nico one as well. “She'll want to talk to you long into the night. She misses other Italians. If you have somewhere to be, you ought to slip out while she's ringing up the tips.”

Nico hesitated.

“Yeah, I'll go,” he said, but Rosa stormed back into the room and shoved him back down into his seat.

“You didn't try my tiramisu,” she insisted. “We have to finish it off, it won't be good tomorrow.”

That wasn't true, but Nico didn't argue. Maria caught his eye and shrugged.

Rosa did seem desperate for someone to talk to about Italy, but it put Nico in a very uncomfortable position of having to conceal that he was from Italy in the 1930's and not the modern one. Fortunately, Rosa reminisced at length about her youth. She'd stayed with a friend in Venice for a summer as a teenager and had apparently had many mischievous and slightly raunchy adventures that she laughed while recounting. 

“What do you think of my daughter? Isn't she pretty?” She said, apropos of nothing, shocking Nico. “You want to take her out sometime? A nice boy like you would be good for her.”

“Mama, he's too young for me,” Maria insisted. 

“How old are you,” Rosa asked him.

“Eleven,” he said without thinking.

“Ah, you're making fun of me,” Rosa said. “I can't help myself, I want my daughter to be happy.”

Maria rolled her eyes.

“How old do you think I am,” Nico said suddenly. “If you had to guess?”

“Seventeen,” Maria said. “Am I right?”

“Yeah, that's right,” Nico said, a chill going down his spine. What in the hell had happened to him while he was asleep?

“I'm twenty two,” Maria said. “And happily single for now. I have enough problems without dragging poor Nico into them, Mama,” she insisted, making her mother laugh. 

Nico listened more than he spoke, but the three of them ended up chatting late into the night just as Maria had warned, until he was yawning and Maria put her head down on the table.

Rosa could have talked forever, but eventually she looked at her watch and gasped. 

“One AM?” She exclaimed. “Where does the time go?”

She looked at Nico, blinking tiredly, and clucked her tongue. 

“You can stay on the couch,” she said, ushering him upstairs. He couldn't protest when she gave him a blanket and tucked him into the couch. His eyes closed quickly.

In the morning, he left as soon as he awoke, not wanting to bother them any further, but Maria was in the kitchen already washing up.

“You're very interesting, Nico,” she said. “There's something old about you. I can't put my finger on it.”

“Oh,” he said, at a loss for words. 

“Come back if you need anything,” she said. “We'll be happy to have you. Good luck with everything.”

“Thank you,” Nico said. “Please tell your mom thank you from me. You've been really kind, cooking for me and everything.”

“Like I said, she can't help herself,” Maria said. “Take care. I'll tell her what you said.”

Nico stepped out into the glaringly bright Greek sun, the sky a cloudless, perfect blue, and took a deep breath.

Chapter Text

He found the Muse Cafe easily; it was clearly labeled with a colorful sign hanging out front. The building itself was a two story house painted bright blue, with a mural on one side depicting nine women holding various books, scrolls, and musical instruments.

There was music coming from inside, and someone was singing, but most of the noise was from an argument between at least three or four women, based on what Nico could hear from outside. They were speaking Ancient Greek and trying to figure out who was to blame for leaving a container of yogurt out overnight. It did seem like the right place, Nico thought to himself, approaching the house.

Before he reached the front porch, however, an engine revved loudly, startling him. He stepped off the road and stood beside the house, watching as a car pulled up. At least, he thought it was a car, but it was hard to tell, because the lights on the front were blindingly bright, and he had to look away.

Nico blinked, his eyes struggling to adjust to the blazing headlights of the yellow convertible. A male figure opened the door and stepped out. He was wearing crisply pressed khakis and a white polo, with a gold chain around his neck. He looked brilliant, incomparable in Ralph Lauren sunglasses and boat shoes. 

Nico watched as the man leaned against the car, folding his golden tanned, muscular arms. One hand lazily swept back gleaming bronze hair from his face. 

Nico cold barely breathe, could barely think; he was frozen in place, arrested by this perfect figure. He was broken out of his shock by a woman running out of the cafe, the door banging against the wall.

“Babe!” She cried out in ancient Greek, throwing herself into his arms.

Nico regained his presence of mind enough to duck into an alleyway. His heart was pounding in his chest. He slammed his head back against the stucco wall of the cafe. He really, really, really had tried to ignore this, but it was impossible. He had to face up to the fact that he was a teenager now, and feeling attracted to people was just something he'd be dealing with from now on. Even still, this felt extreme. 

He tried to distract himself and stay calm. He listened intently to the man's conversation with the muse.

“Hey, beautiful,” the man said, after a moment's pause probably caused by them making out. “Wanna go for a ride?”

His tone was suggestive and unsubtle; the muse's squeals were so high pitched Nico's ears were ringing. 

“Yeah, baby, of course. I missed you so much. It's been too long. You never iris message me. Have you been getting the pictures I'm sending?”

“I have, Calliope,” he said, his voice like golden ambrosia. “I've just been busy. You know how it is. It ain't easy being Apollo.”

Nico's jaw dropped. That was the god Apollo? He'd met Apollo before, and he'd looked totally different, although his vibe had admittedly been similar. His car had been different too, and Nico realized he might be in his Roman form right now. He had to admit to himself that his perception had also completely changed since he'd aged up. It was an uncomfortable thought, but undeniable. Apollo was hot.

“You haven't been seeing other women, have you?” Calliope said.

“Sun sees a lot of things, baby girl,” Apollo said. “You'll have to be more specific.”

Apollo was hot and obnoxious.

Another muse ran out of the cafe. Nico heard the door slam and peered around the corner at the spectacle.

“Babe!” She said, running up to Apollo. She grabbed her sister's collar and yanked her off of him. “Get away, it's my turn.”

“No way! It's mine,” another muse said, coming out of the cafe. “You had him last week.”

The three sisters began arguing shrilly over who would get to go for a ride with Apollo. Apparently there was some confusion over a rotating schedule they had been using for the last thousand years.

Nico watched Apollo carefully. His initial infatuation had dissipated, and now he was just fascinated. He'd had such a strong, immediate reaction to the god's energy. No wonder the muses were fighting over him. It was a shame his personality didn't seem to match his good looks. Apollo just watched the muses fight with a smirk on his face and buffed an invisible spot out on the hood of his convertible.

Nico took a deep breath, steeling himself. He tried to stay cool, even though he was shaking in his combat boots. 

He stepped out of the alley and approached Apollo. Be calm. Be collected, he told himself.

“What do we have here,” Apollo said, tweaking his sunglasses down to look Nico up and down with ravenous eyes. “Do I know you, handsome?”

The three muses who were arguing all turned to Nico with vicious glares that sent a chill down his spine.

“You look familiar,” Apollo said. “Were you in Mykonos last summer? Stavros, right?”

“My name is Nico,” Nico said, his voice sounding more cold and confident than he felt. 

“You like to party, Nico? Can I call you Nicky?”

This annoyed Nico immensely. He had a very important mission and it felt as though Apollo was trying to distract him. He tried not to be put off by his obvious sexual interest; Apollo couldn't know that Nico was just a kid on the inside. Sort of.

“No thanks. Nico is fine,” Nico said. “And I'm here on business that I need to speak with you about. There's something you borrowed--”

“Pfft,” Apollo snorted. “You're no fun.” He turned back to the muses. “Now who's coming with me?”

“Excuse me,” Nico added. “This is important. I'm here on business for my father. Hades? You may have heard of him?”

“I should have known,” Apollo said, looking at Nico with annoyance. “Always the killjoy. I don't have time, kid. Tell your father I'll give him a call sometime in the next century.”

Nico couldn't wait that long; he didn't have a century to waste. He needed to speak with Bianca before she moved on.

“No, I really need it now,” he said. He pulled out his list. Apollo started laughing.

“You have a list?” Apollo snorted. “Oh, that is so sad. You're just a kid and he's already working you to death. He'll probably have you working for him after you're dead, too, you know.”

“Probably,” Nico said. “But that's beside the point. You borrowed a magic Stygian iron ring and he wants it back.” He glanced at Apollo's fingers. Long, golden, perfectly manicured. Nico swallowed. Focus, he reminded himself.

There was no ring on either of Apollo's hands.

“I don't have it,” Apollo said.

“Do you know where it is?” Nico asked. 

“I don't remember.”

“It was a very valuable magical object,” Nico said, “So we need to locate it or you need to replace it with something of equal or greater value.”

“I don't like being told what to do by demigods,” Apollo warned. “I've had just about enough of this.”

“It's right here in his writing,” Nico insisted, pointing at the item on the list Hades had written. “I'm just the messenger. It's not my fault you borrowed the ring and then lost it, but I have to have something to bring back to my father. He'll just keep sending me back to harrass you,” he added. “I'm sure you have better things to do. I don't want to bother you either, but I have no choice.”

“Alright, alright, fine, fine,” Apollo said. “Look, I don't remember what I did with the ring, but let me see if I can give you something to shut you up. It's not like I don't have enough magical objects lying around back at my place. Just hop in the back.”

Nico glanced at the convertible, sighed, and climbed into the backseat. He had to get to Olympus anyway. He may as well accept the ride.

Apollo went up to the muses, grabbed Calliope's hand, and escorted her to the passenger seat. She flipped off her sisters, and they drove straight up into the sky.

It was a smooth ride, gliding along the air, with bright orange flames burning out of the exhaust pipe, but Nico felt like he was going to faint. He desperately missed having solid ground beneath his feet, and he held onto the edges of the seat for dear life. A quick glance told him there were no seat belts. This ride may have been smoother than the time Apollo had tried to teach Thalia to drive, but Nico found himself more anxious than before.

Calliope glanced back at him with annoyance.

“Does he have to be here?” 

“Hopefully not for long,” Apollo sighed. “Uncle Hades needs something from me, unfortunately.”

“What a pain in the ass that man is,” Calliope sighed.

“I know, right?”

Nico was feeling too queasy to speak, but internally he was enraged. Apollo had borrowed something and then lost it, and he had the nerve to complain that he was inconvenienced? Were all the Olympians this obnoxious?

Apollo's convertible chariot skidded to a stop next to a large garden. Nico had been staring at his feet the entire ride and hadn't noticed where they went, but he figured they were on Olympus now. He glanced around and saw a winding gold staircase on one side that led up to what looked like pavilions in the clouds. There were pegasi flying around and sparkling waterfalls everywhere.

He rolled his eyes. What a ridiculous place.

Apollo's pavilion had golden suns splashed on everything. They came in different formats, some circles and spirals and some bright yellow with sunglasses on. He must have been pretty full of himself to splash his logo on everything he owned. 

Calliope went to sit on a couch, and Nico was left standing while Apollo began digging through a pile of stuff in a chest.

While he waited, Nico noticed Calliope messing with something on her hand. He sensed a vague cthonic signature wafting from it.

“What is that?” He said, pointing to her hand. She glanced down.

“This old thing? Apollo gave it to me.”

“That's it,” Nico said, walking up to her. It was a shining black Stygian iron ring. “That's the ring I need. It belongs to Lord Hades.”

“Baby, he's trying to steal my present away,” Calliope shouted.

Apollo didn't hear her, his head bent over the chest. He tossed stuff out left and right, heedless of the fact that some of it was pottery getting smashed to bits on the floor.

“Here,” he said, pulling out a small golden box and tossing it at Nico's face. “Give it to your father. And tell him to leave me alone.”

Nico looked at the box in his hands. 

“I don't need this,” he said. “She has the ring.”

“No, it's mine,” Calliope said. 

“Babe, I'll get you a better one,” Apollo said. “I've got to get Hades off my back.”

“A better one, and a matching bracelet,” Calliope said. “And I want to be taken out again next week. I'm bored to tears in that cafe every day. My sisters never shut up. I can't focus on my poetry with them yammering day and night and picking fights. This is the only place I get any writing done.”

“I've told you a thousand thousand times, move out on your own,” Apollo said. “I miss hearing your recitations.”

“It's not that easy,” she said, pulling the ring off her finger and handing it to Apollo. “Every time I'm away from them too long, I start to miss fighting with them. There's no winning with sisters, you know?”

Nico took the ring Apollo offered him and made to hand back the box, but Apollo waved him away.

“Keep it,” he said. “And never darken my door again. Underworld stuff gives me the creeps,” he added. “No offense.”

Nico took great offense, but he managed to nod respectfully. He needed to ask where he could find Ganymede, but he wanted to get away from Apollo as quickly as possible, so he just dashed up the stairs, heedless of where he was going.

It occurred to him that Zeus might be around, and he walked faster, looking for anyone who might be able to point him in the right direction. To his good fortune, he found a landmark very quickly. There was a massive flame burning in the center of a circular pavilion, not far from Apollo's room. The flame was contained in a golden brazier, and it burned in many different colors all at once. It was an impressive spectacle. Once Nico had walked partway around, he noticed a young woman's face inside of the fire. Her eyes and hair were made of flame, but he could clearly make out the woman looking back at him. She had a kind expression, and he felt comfortable walking right up to her and speaking.

“Excuse me, goddess,” he said. “Hestia, right?”

“Vesta, child,” she said, smiling at him. “But close enough. What is it?”

He was glad he'd remembered at least something from camp.

“It's an honor to meet you, Vesta,” he said. 

“What's your name, young man?” She asked.

“Nico di Angelo,” he said. “Son of Hades. I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm here on official Underworld business,” he added, trying to add legitimacy to his presence in case she wasn't a fan of his uninvited guests. “I need to speak with Ganymede.”

She conjured a door with the wave of her hand. It hovered in front of Nico, a gold eagle embossed on the front of it. 

“Anything else?” She asked.

“No, that's perfect,” he said. “Thank you so much. I appreciate it.”

She nodded and melted back into the flame. Nico hurried through the door.

Chapter Text

The other side was not what Nico had expected. He was on a rocky mountaintop, with lush greenery and trees dotted everywhere, overlooking a deep valley almost like a chasm. Little lambs frolicked on the hillside. A flock of geese flapped through a clear blue sky. There was a quaint country cottage perched on a grassy knoll nearby. Nico headed straight there.

He knocked on the door. There were morning glories dripping from the roof, and a little fountain with a statue of eagle on it dribbled golden ambrosia. Nico looked at it suspiciously. He wasn't going to be messing with that again anytime soon.

The door opened, and a handsome young man in lightning print boxer shorts opened it. He stared at Nico. Nico stared back at him. He had messy blonde curls and a freckled, cheerful face with a curious expression.

“Ganymede?” Nico asked.

“Yup,” Ganymede said. He had a container of Hot Cheetos flavor Easy Mac in his hand with a spoon sticking out of it.

“My name is Nico,” Nico said. “Hades sent me to collect on a debt.” He dug around in his pocket. “I have the invoice here somewhere,” he muttered.

“You can come in,” Ganymede said. He led Nico inside to a house that was cluttered and kind of filthy. A gaming computer had been left on pause, with headphones abandoned on the floor, the wire still connected. Empty cans of Redbull were littered everywhere. There was an animal in a tank on the far side of the room, but Nico couldn't see what it was behind the algae covering the glass.

“What's the debt?” Ganymede said, sitting in an oversized gamer chair and leaning back, propping bare feet on his desk. His toenails were painted electric blue. Nico thought that was pretty cool.

“Dry cleaning for a dress you borrowed from Persephone.”

“Oh, shit, I thought I paid for that,” he said, looking genuinely dismayed. “I'll take care of it now.”

Nico handed him the invoice, and Ganymede took out a phone and an electric blue credit card. He paid the invoice by waving the card in front of the phone.

“Paid up,” he said, showing Nico a confirmation screen. Nico nodded.

“Can you send that to Hades please?”

Ganymede nodded and fiddled with the phone some more.

“I can't imagine Persephone cared about a little dry cleaning fee,” he said, looking up at Nico with a twinkle in his eye. “She's married to the god of wealth.”

“It's the principle of the thing,” Nico said firmly.

“I can see why Hades sent you as his proxy,” Ganymede said, observing him wryly. “Are you his lover?”

“I'm his son,” Nico said.

“A demigod? Cool,” Ganymede grinned. “What's the mortal world like these days?”

“What's the mortal world like? It sucks,” Nico said. “Everything is hard and people keep dying. I hate it.”

“I miss it,” Ganymede said. “I visit sometimes, but it's been a while. Zeus made me this facsimile of Mount Ida, thinking I would miss it, but a field of sheep is a field of sheep. I miss the uncertainty. The change. I want to feel alive again. Feel something... New.”

“Feeling alive...” Nico thought of his intense hunger when he wandered in Asphodel, his fear when his mother had died in the explosion. The moment Percy Jackson told him his sister had died. “It's overrated,” he concluded.

“But you're young and handsome,” Ganymede said. “You should be living wild and free, dancing until the sun comes up and getting lost in bad neighborhoods. Spending more money than you have. Eating food that's too spicy for you. I could go on.”

Nico recalled his travels to get to Olympus.

“China was kind of cool,” he said.

“You've been to China?” Ganymede said excitedly, spinning his chair around. “You'll have to tell me about it. You can sit on the bean bag. Have a popsicle,” he said, tossing Nico a purple popsicle out of his minifridge.

Nico settled into the bean bag and enjoyed his popsicle, telling Ganymede about his brief time in China. Ganymede was so intrigued by his story that he told him about Uzbekistan and Turkey. Ganymede's home on Mount Ida was located in modern Turkey, and he had Nico describe every single food he ate while in Istanbul to see if any were his old favorites. They weren't, but he seemed pleaseed to hear about them anyway. Then Nico told him about Litochoro and meeting Apollo and the muses.

“You're lucky Apollo helped you at all,” Ganymede said. “I'm just a cupbearer, so I don't run around purposefully offending anybody, but Apollo really didn't need to pay you any mind. Nobody cares if Hades is pissed off at them. He's pissed off at pretty much all of us all the time anyway, for reasons we can't always remember, so it doesn't seem like it makes much difference. He's refused to come up here since the Great War.”

“He's refused to come up here since Zeus killed my mother,” Nico said.

“Oh, did he?” Ganymede said. “I'm sorry. I hate when he does stuff like that. You're not the first.”

Nico sat in silence for a moment, chewing his popsicle stick.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Nico said. “I expected you to defend him.”

“Zeus isn't perfect,” Ganymede said. “But I do think he does his best most of the time, and I love him for that. Everyone makes mistakes. Besides, holding grudges only makes things worse.”

Nico bit the popsicle stick in half. Ganymede held out a trash can and let him throw the stick in.

“Let's change the subject,” Ganymede suggested, smiling at him kindly. “I know it's tough. What led you to work for your father now?”

Nico explained everything. Bianca, his ambrosia coma, his memories returning. He wasn't sure whether it was a good idea to trust Ganymede with this information, but he was such a good listener that it was hard not to go on and on.

“What a whirlwind,” Ganymede said, his warm brown eyes wide with concern. “You demigods. Things can never be simple for you, can they?”

“I guess not,” Nico sighed.

“Even less so as a son of Hades,” Ganymede said. “There's not a lot of precedent for you to go off of, since he doesn't get out much.”

“Unlike some people,” Nico muttered.

“Hey,” Ganymede pointed a finger at Nico. “He may be a player, but he's still my man.” He reached into the minifridge again. “Pudding cup?”

“Sure. Thanks,” Nico said. “Um. Awkward question.”

“Shoot.”

“Didn't Zeus kidnap you?”

Ganymede cocked his head at Nico curiously, golden ringlets bouncing. Nico noticed he had a single sapphire pendant dangling from one ear.

“You're from the modern world,” Ganymede said. “It was different back then. I'm not sure you'll understand.”

“I can try,” Nico said.

“Zeus was and is my patron god,” Ganymede said. “The one I worship above all others. He's a force of nature. Submitting to him was as natural as breathing. And that moment when he lifted me in his talons,” he sighed. “I was in ecstasy. Like a religious and emotional and sexual frenzy, all at once. There was never any thought in my mind that I ought to fight him off.”

Nico thought of the physical arousal that had coursed through his body when he'd first seen Apollo; the way it had taken a force of will to tear his eyes away. How much more intense would it feel to be a normal human, with no exposure to the power of godhood outside of religious devotion?

“It might have looked like I was picked up by a big bird,” Ganymede said. “But it felt more like a sex tornado.”

Nico and Ganymede both started snickering.

“It's true,” Ganymede snorted. “But I know if I'd been a woman it would be different. They have to fear Hera, and their fathers and husbands,” he said. “Zeus can't protect them from his wife. All they can hope is to bear a son strong enough to save them. Or a daughter; I know times have changed. Thalia is supposed to be a wildcat, or so Zeus has told me.”

“He talks about his kids?”

“Sometimes,” Ganymede said. “I've never taken an interest in them, though. You're the only demigod I've spoken to in centuries. You're cool, though,” he said. “You have interesting vibes.”

“I do?”

“Yeah. You're easy on the eyes, too,” he winked. “You know if you catch Zeus' eye, I'll have to kill you.”

“Dude, I just told you he killed my mom. If he tries anything I'll kill myself for you. Except I'm on the no-ride list until I finish my chores.”

“Lame,” Ganymede snorted. “Do you wanna play a game with me?” He tossed Nico one of his Nintendo controllers.

A few hours later, Nico and Ganymede had eaten their way through three boxes of pizza rolls and were very invested in their game. That was, until Ganymede's phone beeped.

“Zeusie,” he said, answering the video call. “It's you!”

“Dearest,” Zeus said. “A little eagle told me there's been a man in your house all afternoon. Should I be concerned?”

Ganymede glanced over his shoulder at Nico.

“Yeah, he's here,” he grinned into the phone. “He's a real tough customer, too. You'd better get over here and save me before he ravishes me.”

“What is the matter with you?” Nico said, panicking. Ganymede giggled.

Zeus hung up the call and kicked the door open.

“Sky Daddy!” Ganymede said, running over to him. “You came!”

Zeus put an arm around Ganymede.

“This is him?” Zeus intoned. “He doesn't look particularly threatening.”

“Did I make you jealous?” Ganymede asked.

“A little bit,” Zeus said. “I'd never share you, dearest,” he said, kissing the top of Ganymede's head. Ganymede had looked like an adult in Nico's eyes, maybe college aged, but next to Zeus his small, lithe frame looked young in comparison.

Zeus was tall and thickly built. His long black hair had salt and pepper streaks zigzagging through dark curls, and his piercing electric blue eyes were set in a square, strong jawed face. His olive skin glowed with immortal power and there was an energy radiating from him that made Nico's hair stand on end. It was horribly familiar. He could smell the acrid stench of ozone radiating from Zeus.

This was the man who had killed his mother. A surge of hatred rose up in Nico. He swallowed hard, rising to his feet.

“I was just leaving,” he said quietly. He wasn't stupid enough to risk offending Zeus. He knew what the man was capable of.

“The polite thing is to introduce oneself and show the King of the gods some respect,” Zeus said, frowning.

Nico panicked, thinking he'd already screwed up, but Ganymede saved him.

“Oh, be nice,” Ganymede said. “You're always so mean to my friends. You know how lonely I get when you're not here!”

“I'm sorry, my dear, but--”

“I try to be strong for you,” Ganymede whimpered. “But it's so quiet and sad here when you aren't around. I see you so little these days.”

“Don't be upset with me,” Zeus said. “I can't help that I'm busy. You can see your little friend as much as you want if it pleases you.”

“You're so good to me,” Ganymede said, wrapping his arms around Zeus's neck. He pressed a kiss to Zeus's cheek. “You should go,” he said, glancing at Nico.

“Wait a minute,” Zeus said. “Who is he? What was he doing here?”

“He was just collecting on a debt I owed Persephone,” Ganymede said. “For that purple dress of hers I borrowed for that party.”

“You looked lovely,” Zeus told him. “A fine garment indeed. What is your name, young messenger of Persephone?”

“Nico di Angelo,” Nico said.

“Nico di Angelo, I take issue with your tone,” Zeus said, frowning down his nose.

“Oh, would you cut him a break?” Ganymede said. “You killed the poor kid's mother, you big meanie.”

Zeus raised his eyebrows, looking at Nico.

“I don't recall doing anything of the sort,” he said. “Anyway,” he said, clearing his throat. “Away with you, boy. I have business with Ganymede.”

He swept Ganymede up into his arms. Nico could not shadow travel away fast enough.

He slammed into the floor directly in front of his father's throne, gasping for breath. The speed and force it had taken to travel from the sky to the depths of the earth had winded him.

Hades stood, startled. Minos, too, was present in the throne room. He knelt in front of Nico and helped him to his feet.

“Are you alright, Nico?” He asked. “Are you hurt?” His touch on Nico's arm was ginger, tentative, and he let go as soon as Nico waved him off.

“Fine,” he coughed. “Just traveled too fast. I came from Olympus.”

Mino's eyes widened.

“Olympus? Really?”

“Out, Minos,” Hades said. “The boy is fine. Back to your business.”

Minos scurried away, looking back over his shoulder.

“You are well, child?” Hades confirmed.

“He was there,” Nico said. “Zeus.”

“You spoke with him?”

“I didn't want to. I couldn't leave, he started asking me questions,” Nico said. “He didn't recognize my name, and Ganymede told him he'd killed my mother.”

Hades took a deep inhale of breath.

“What did he say?”

“He said he didn't remember,” Nico said.

“Lies!” Hades roared. A vast wall of flame rose up behind him, and jagged stalagmites rose up out of the floor. Nico recognized the display for what it was; a display of impotent rage. He understood it, but he was no god. He was a young boy in way over his head.

“He--” Nico started to cry. “He's too powerful,” he said. He didn't have to say more; Hades put a hand on the back of his head and pressed Nico close to him. It wasn't a real hug, but it was meant to be comforting, and Nico understood it.

“Give no more thought to my brother,” Hades said, his voice resonating beneath his ribcage. Nico could feel every cold, hard rib his forehead pressed against, as though Hades was only skin and bone with no flesh to protect him. “Your vendetta against Zeus can only endanger you. Save your hatred for me. If I had been stronger, moved faster, your mother would not have died the way she did.”

“It wasn't your fault,” Nico said through his tears.

Hades was silent at that. It was a long moment before he spoke again.

“You are never to visit Olympus again,” Hades said. “I cannot protect you there. If you give the slightest indication of disobeying, you will never leave the Underworld for the duration of your mortal life.”

“Trust me,” Nico swallowed, wiping his eyes. “I have no desire to go back. I hated it there.”

“It is a distasteful place indeed,” Hades said. He cleared his stalagmites away and extinguished his wall of flame, heaving a sigh that seemed to come from the bowels of Tartarus. “If for any reason,” he said. “You encounter Zeus in the mortal world, you must return here. Do not answer his questions and do not linger. He is a creature of impulse and is unpredictable. I do not trust him not to finish the job on you if he takes the notion.”

“I will,” Nico said.

“And be careful with the way you use his name,” Hades said. “It attracts his attention. The only place we are free to speak as we wish is here. And perhaps beneath the sea,” he added.

Nico nodded again.

“And finally, if you are ever in mortal danger in the surface world, hit the ground twice with the palms of your hands. It will summon me. Emergencies only,” Hades said emphatically. “I do not fancy having my time wasted.”

“Can I even be in mortal danger while I'm on the no ride list?”

“Oh, your flesh will survive mortal wounds; though the damage would be as painful and debilitating as ever, you will keep breathing until you finish that list,” Hades said. “But as soon as your tasks are complete, Charon will pick you up immediately. It is merely a delay of the inevitable fate that awaits you.”

“So if I never finish the list, I live forever? I'm immortal now?”

Hades raised his eyebrows.

“Your body will decay, but yes, your soul is tethered to that list,” he said.

“Aren't you afraid I'll abuse my new invulnerability?”

“No,” Hades said. “You have made it clear already you do not fear death. More likely you will seek it,” he said. “As most demigods inevitably do. Perhaps more consciously on your part than it is on theirs.”

Nico shrugged, knowing Hades had read him right. Immortality sounded like a terrible burden. He thought again of the cool, dark quiet of Asphodel, the whispering reeds, and a flicker of peace came over him knowing it would be there, waiting, when he was ready.

“Come into my office,” Hades said. “You must recount everything you saw and heard on Olympus.”

Nico followed his father into a large office in a cavernous space carved from granite with obsidian accents. It was cold and sterile surrounding Hade's desk, which was a huge block of stone covered with piles of paper and a single glowing laptop. Next to him, however, was a riotous burst of color where Persephone had a pink azalea bush and a few blue and purple hydrangeas growing in pots around her desk of carved wood. She had a computer as well, but it was closed, and she was crocheting at her desk instead, with a flock of skeletal finches fluttering around her, singing in whispers of remembered birdsong.

“Nico!” She said, and her face lit up in an expression of delight. “You're back sooner than I expected!”

If Nico was not mistaken, she looked like she was genuinely happy to see him. He wondered how long she would continue to find him entertaining. Surely she would get bored eventually and see him as the nuisance he really was.

“My brother continues to insult me,” Hades intoned, moving to sit in his chair. He summoned a skeletal servant with a wave, who brought Nico a stool to sit on. “His arrogance knows no bounds,” he said, as Persephone stood and went over to him, putting her hands on his shoulders.

“I'm sorry, dear,” she said, smoothing his hair. “I wish there were more I could do to help.”

Hades brought her hand to his lips.

“Your presence is balm enough for my troubles, my love,” he said.

Persephone met Nico's eyes, smiling.

Nico bowed his head to her.

“Thank you for your advice while I was gone, goddess,” he said sincerely. “It was really nice of you to think of me.”

“But tell me what's happened,” she said.

She and Hades listened silently as he explained what happened in Litochoro and on Olympus.

“So, um,” he finished. “The ring you wanted,” he said, taking it off his finger and putting it on Hades' desk. “And the receipt for the dry cleaning should be in your inbox.”

“I saw it already,” Hades said.

“Ganymede also apologized in the email,” Persephone said, “Which your father will be preening over for years. An apology from an Olympian is rarer than a whale in the Sahara.”

“They're just the worst,” Hades muttered, clearing his throat. “Son, do you make a habit of putting on magical objects without knowing what they are for? How incredibly foolish of you.”

“What, the ring? I just didn't want to lose it,” Nico said. “I didn't even think about it.”

“What does it do?” Persephone asked.

“I have no idea. I can't remember. Which tells you how long Apollo has carried on this insult,” Hades huffed.

“Apollo gave me this, too,” Nico said, setting the gold earring box on the desk.

“As an apology gift?”

Nico thought about it.

“Um,” he said. “He said it was in exchange for never darkening his door again. Since he said Underworld stuff creeps him out,” Nico sighed.

Hades opened the box.

“I have no need of these,” he said, tossing the box back to Nico. “They're old and their magic is weak.”

“What are they?” Nico asked, looking at the earrings. They just looked like tiny gold loops to him, with little red beads threaded onto thin wire.

Persephone waved a hand in his direction, and a pomegranate-red smoke wrapped around the gold box. A symbol of a sun flashed briefly.

“They once carried a blessing of Apollo,” she said. “But it's worn to nothing now. You can take these to Nyx, and she can apply a new spell. Choose anything you like.”

“Choose once you collect one of her items on the list,” Hades interrupted.

“Let him have a little spell, dear, he's earned it,” she said.

“Underworld residents must earn their keep,” Hades said. “No exceptions.”

“Such a harsh taskmaster you are, lord husband,” Persephone said, winking at Nico. “Truly you rule your domain with an iron fist.”

“You are mocking me,” Hades grumbled.

“Never,” Persephone said, giggling. “Nico, go and see your room. I added some things to make it nicer for you. You ought to get some rest if you're to continue slaving away on chores.”

“Thank you,” Nico said, more than happy to leave the office. He wasn't uncomfortable talking to the two of them, but he needed to process everything that had happened on Olympus.

He headed back to his room, grabbing a bowl of olives off the table to snack on. He sat on his bed and looked around. Persephone had added a little bonsai pomegranate tree, more blankets and pillows, and had piled a stack of new clothes in the corner for him. There was a large candelabra, and the candles magically lit when he walked into the room.

“Knock knock,” someone said on the other side of the doorway.

“Minos,” Nico said, recognizing the voice.

“May I come in?” Minos asked hesitantly.

“You were watching me when I was sleeping the other day,” Nico said, talking around a mouthful of olives. “You didn't care about asking permission then.”

“I... Um...”

“Minos, why does Persephone do all this for me?” Nico asked, gesturing to the décor.

Minos looked around appreciatively, prodding the bonsai to be sure it was real.

“Why wouldn't she?”

Nico frowned.

“Isn't that obvious?”

Minos turned to face him. His navy blue chiton was ornamented with bronze clasps at the shoulders, Nico noticed, printed with the image of a bull. He looked tanned and fit, the same as he must have been in life, with broad shoulders and a wide neck. If he stood perfectly still, you almost couldn't tell he was dead.

“Obvious?” He asked, cocking his head. Large gold earrings hung from his earlobes, and when he cocked his head, one of them nearly grazed his shoulder. They were solid gold and shaped like bells, again with the bull head embossed on them.

“I'm not her kid,” Nico said. “My father had an affair. She should hate me.”

Minos shook his head, earrings moving with him.

“I'd have thought that way too, when I lived in the mortal world,” he said. “But down here, things are fair. Not always kind, but fair. I try to keep it so, as a judge,” he said, dark brows furrowing. “If she shows you mercy, it's because you deserve it. That's just how it is here.”

“I guess,” Nico said, sighing. The underworld is always fair. He knew that intuitively, but he'd never really thought about how it applied to him. He'd suffered a lot of unfairness in his life. Was Persephone trying to right the scales for him? Was it because she wanted to, or because she felt obligated to make up for her husband's lack of affection?

He ate a couple of olives in silence, feeling Minos watching him.

“Do you want one?”

Minos nodded and accepted an olive gingerly.

“What does it feel like to eat as a shade?” Nico asked him curiously.

“Nothing feels like much of anything,” he shrugged. “It's more like smelling an olive than really eating it. But it's nice to do the things I'm used to doing, even if it can't be the same.”

“Shades seem to like repetition.”

“Novelty is lost to us,” Minos said. “Echoes are all we have. I have retained much of myself, though,” he said. “I can't complain.”

“How does that work? Why are some shades stronger than others?” Nico wanted to know as much as he could about what Bianca was going through in order to better reach her.

“Those of us slated for reward or punishment must be somewhat whole in spirit if we're to reap said deserts,” he said.

“Is your being a judge a reward or a punishment?”

“Both,” he said. “Neither. I don't know.”

“I heard you were a pretty bad person,” Nico said.

Minos frowned.

“My worst deeds were the ones immortalized,” he said. “My best forgotten. I hate that you think of me that way,” he muttered.

“Why do you care what I think?”

Minos didn't answer.

“I should get back to work,” he said. “Thank you for the olives.” He left.

Nico didn't give him any more thought. He fell back onto his bed, letting his arm fall down to graze the marble floor, ice cold to the touch. He closed his eyes and let sleep carry him away.

Chapter Text

He was in the kitchen with Maria and Rosa. They were cooking and chatting over the roar of the blender as Rosa pulverized tomatoes for sauce.

“Do you think that nice young man ever found what he was looking for?” Rosa said. “What could he have wanted with the Muse sisters?”

“I've been wondering that myself,” Maria said. “But he never came back, so I guess he found something.”

“What was his name?”

“Nico di Angelo,” Maria said.

“Nico di Angelo,” Rosa said. “There was something about him. I can't put my finger on it. I'm glad we looked after him.”

“Mama,” Maria said, pausing in her work. “Do you ever think about moving back to Italy?”

Rosa frowned at her. “This restaurant is my life's work. I can never leave it.”

Maria glanced back into the dining room. Tiny, rickety tables with plastic covers crowded a small, stuffy dining room. A single light bulb flickered overhead.

“It's not much, but it's ours,” Rosa continued. “Why?”

“Nothing. It's just been a while,” Maria said. “Maybe I'm homesick.”

“Litochoro is our home,” Rosa said. She was a strong willed woman, Nico recognized, and she wouldn't be satisfied until Maria abandoned these expressions of discontent. “I think you're pining after that pretty young man.”

“Am not,” Maria said, blushing.

Nico woke up with a start. Persephone was standing over him.

“Napping?” She asked him.

“Trying to,” he said, deciding not to address the fact that she'd been watching him. Nobody in this house seemed to have normal boundaries. “I had a weird dream. It felt like I was watching people. Like, in reality.”

“Your ambrosia incident will probably have a lot of strange side effects,” she said. “I'd suggest you ignore them.”

He nodded.

She ran her hand across her braid. A strand of pink flowers folowed the path of her fingers, weaving into her dark brown hair. Her eyes were a very warm shade of brown, her eyes flickering with hazel green flecks. She even smelled like flowers.

“I want you to be comfortable here,” she said. “Are you?”

“Yes,” Nico said.

“You don't prefer it on the surface?”

“No, not really,” Nico said. “There's nothing wrong with this place. I just feel like I'm bothering you. Well, bothering my dad, really. He's so anxious for me to get the list done that I feel like lingering makes him mad.”

“You know as well as I do that nothing on the list is urgent,” she said. “Half of it he made up on the spot to keep you busy. He just doesn't know any other way to deal with you besides ordering you around.” She went over to his pile of clothing and ran her hand over it. On the bottom of the pile he saw something golden glinting. He saw her touch it gently and then move on. “Your father is so dedicated to his work, Nico,” she said. “He didn't choose this. But it isn't in him to give less than his best to the people who depend on him.”

Nico nodded. He hadn't looked at his father that generously, but he could understand where she was coming from.

“He has been treated so unfairly, yet he is the best of his brothers. I learned to love him. Do you think you could?”

Woah. Nico hadn't been expecting that.

“I already do,” he admitted. “Part of me does, anyway. When I was little, he would visit and spend time with my sister and I. He was actually really nice back then. Even having a handful of memories like that with him means a lot. Especially knowing who he is, and how little time most demigods get with their parents.”

“I'm so thrilled to hear that,” she said, and she looked deeply happy and relieved. A red peony blossomed in her hair vine and fell to the floor. “I had always wanted to see him as a father. Affectionate and warm and playful,” she mused.

“I don't see that happening,” Nico muttered. It was beginning to dawn on him why Persephone was so invested in him. She wanted to see a different side of her husband. “I'm sorry to disappoint you. Maybe if my sister had lived, it would have been different.”

Her face fell.

“Don't say that,” she said. “The fates have woven you here now, and her thread is cut. We have to make the best of it we can.”

He shook his head.

“I can't accept that. I have to bring her back. I have to convince dad to let me try.”

“Nico, what if it isn't possible?”

“You don't think it is?”

“I haven't looked into it, but... I doubt it.” She rested a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “My own mother searched for me for a very long time after others told her to give up. She brought me back from the dead, in a sense. Given that, I can't find it in my heart to discourage you, even if I don't forsee you being successful.” She smiled at him warmly. “So long as your motivation is love, I will have your back.”

He nodded.

“I really appreciate it,” he murmured.

“I have a favor to ask,” she said, her eyes glinting.

“Whatever it is, I'll do it,” he said.

“I know you'll continue on your quest soon enough. Can you promise to come back on March 21st?”

“What's March 21st?”

“That's the day I leave this year. It's always difficult for your father when I go back to the surface. I'd like you to come home and try to distract him. He knows I'm asking you to do this,” she added. “He might be stubborn about it, I'm warning you now.”

Nico nodded.

“I'll try my best,” he said.

“I know you will,” she said, hugging him. “Keep in touch while you're gone,” she added. “I should get back to work.”

Her hug had felt like sunshine and springtime. How had he gotten so lucky to have a stepmother like her? He counted his blessings that he hadn't wound up with Hera instead.

He padded across the room in his bare feet, the granite floor cool against his skin, and looked at the stack of clothing she'd left him. He'd have to add it to his wardrobe. There were more shirts like the one he was wearing, and dark wash jeans, and socks and underwear. She'd gone out of her way to include things similar to what he'd bought for himself. He looked at some of the labels and saw that most of them were Gucci and Versace. Had she bought Italian brands because that was where he was from? That was such a weirdly thoughtful and endearing thing to do. It made him smile.

He changed into new clothes scented of violets and sunlight, feeling like a new man.

He looked like a new man, he thought, looking at himself in the mirror. He was more accustomed to his older face and body now, and it felt good to be at least a little bit comfortable in his own skin again. He still felt strange in a way he couldn't really explain, but growing up probably carried with it a lot of mysteries he had yet to figure out.

He turned to leave and spotted something glinting on the floor. He knelt to look at it, and realized it was the gold object Persephone had been fiddling with. It was a gold clasp attached to a piece of very fine black fabric. He'd never touched anything that felt quite like it before. It felt like something halfway between silk and a slippery polyester. It had a dark shimmer to it that was fascinating to look at.

It seemed like a rectangular piece of fabric, and he figured it was a Greek style tunic.

He touched the gold clasp and noted that there was a pomegranate embossed on it. At this point, it didn't even surprise him. It just made him feel more determined to do his best for Persephone. He wanted to be someone worthy of her investment.

He pulled out his list and read through it. He should work on Nyx's stuff, he decided. He needed the heart of a flawless bull calf. That seemed doable. And he needed the bones of a Christian martyr and a hippocampus tail. What sort of spell was Nyx concocting with those ingredients?

The martyr bones jumped out at him the easiest. He didn't know anything about livestock, and he had no clue what a hippocampus was, but he distinctly remembered seeing the preserved body parts of saints on multiple occasions when he was growing up. He'd need to do a little research, but he knew a good place to begin.

He grabbed a pair of sunglasses and shadow traveled to Rome, appearing in a shaded alley off a busy street. The traveling was incredibly easy. He guessed it might be because there was such a strong connection between the city and his father's domain. There were probably a few entrances to the underworld here. He could sense them, although getting exact locations was hard. He glanced around, but he couldn't get his bearings when all he saw were bags of stinky trash. He strolled out into the street.

The sun was too bright, blinding him a little, but he was in a busy piazza with a flower market. Riotous color gleamed in the sun, heaps of daisies, roses, peonies in every shade of pink and yellow and purple. He walked up to a stand and looked through a pile of roses until he found the most perfect yellow rose he'd ever seen. He waited until the vendor glanced away, then held it in his hand, sending a prayer to Persephone.

“Here, goddess,” he muttered under his breath. “I thought you'd like it.”

“Like it?” He heard her voice whisper on the breeze. The flowers around him shivered at her presence. “I love it! I love all of them.”

He laughed, and the rose in his palm slowly withered and died.

“Oh,” he said. “Didn't meant to do that. Sorry.”

“I'm used to it,” she said, sending a comforting lavender scent wafting towards him. “It's your nature. Not your fault.”

He hadn't realized killing flowers was his nature, since it had never happened before, but she seemed to think nothing of it, so he didn't dwell.

“Back to work,” he told her. “Just saying hi.”

“Don't work too hard,” she said, her presence leaving. As she went, all of the remaining buds started opening. Nico strolled away as the shoppers at the market began exclaiming about the miraculous sight.

He walked into the first Catholic church he saw, San Pietro in Vincoli, and strolled up towards someone who worked there.

“Excuse me,” he asked. “Are there any bones here? Saint's bones?”

“No,” the man shrugged, taking the question in stride. “San Pietro's chains are here, though.”

“Nah. Has to be bones,” Nico said, turning around and leaving. He walked a while and went into another one called Chiesa di Santa Maria ai Monti. No bones there either, or chains or anything as far as he could see.

He wandered around from church to church, but he didn't have any luck. He wasn't sure if saint bones were just not as common as he remembered, or if they were stored someplace he couldn't see them. There wasn't always someone around to ask or a sign with information handy, which made it harder.

He eventually saw one called Basilica di Santa Maria sopra Minerva.

“Sopra Minerva,” he muttered, looking at it. He didn't see anything that reminded him of Minerva, no owls or shields anywhere. He went inside.

The sign explained that the church was built atop a temple to Isis that had been misidentified as a temple to Minerva in the past.

“I figured it was something like that,” he said. “Minerva isn't so easy to outsmart.” He read further. “There's a saint buried in here!”

“There is indeed,” a woman said behind him. He spun around, alarmed. He'd been muttering under his breath. He could see how it might have been creepy, but it should definitely not have been audible.

The woman had a shaved head and rich coffee colored skin, with bright amber eyes and heavy swoops of eyeliner. Her face was inhumanly beautiful, with high sculpted cheekbones and wide, curving red lips.

“Isis?” He asked her, guessing easily. He'd just been reading about her, after all. He'd half expected to run into her.

“Do you always talk to yourself? It's weird.”

“It's a bad habit I picked up lately.”

Isis frowned at him.

“I know Minerva is supposed to be the smart one and I get where you were going with that,” she said, her mouth curving into a displeased line. “But I took offense to your little remark.”

“I'm sincerely sorry,” he said, his heart starting to pound. Shit. Shit! What had he done?

“Make it up to me,” Isis said, leaning toward him and looming threateningly. “Get rid of her.”

“Her?”

“Catherine,” Isis sneered.

Nico and Isis both turned and looked toward the altar. Saint Catherine's sarcophagus lay beneath.

“Get rid of her?” Nico swallowed.

“I want her head impaled on the obelisk outside,” Isis said.

“Really?” Nico looked at Isis. He studied her a moment. Yes, she looked beautiful and scary and kind of bloodthirsty. But the closer he looked, the more she seemed... Old. Tired. It was as though beneath her perfect, ageless face, there was a soul who was deeply unhappy.

“Please,” Isis said. “You're a friend of Persephone's, right? I sense her blessing on you.”

“You do?”

“Specifically on your Gucci sunglasses,” she said.

He adjusted them on top of his head.

“Right,” he said. “She's my stepmother. I was just talking to her a minute ago.”

“She was a friend of mine,” Isis said. “Long ago. We've lost touch in recent years, but I know she'd want you to help me.”

Nico nodded.

“I can try,” he said. “Maybe if I come back at night and break in--”

“What? No, now,” Isis insisted. “Go on, use the mist. Chase the mortals away.”

“I don't know how to do that,” he said.

“It's easy, just snap your fingers and picture what you want them to see. I'd do it, but I don't have a lot of sway in here at the moment. Catherine's sucking up all the juice.”

Nico took a deep breath, then pictured a scenario he thought might work and snapped his fingers.

He was in a formal hat and had a whistle that he blew loudly.

“Out, everybody out! Relic dusting hour, no visitors,” he said in both Italian and English. “Out, out!”

Tourists scrambled for the door. He kept blowing the mist-whistle until they'd gone. Then he shoved a chair in front of the door while Isis watched, grinning.

“Alright,” he said, extremely pleased with how well the mist had worked. “Time to collect some bones.” He and Isis marched over to the sarcophagus.

There was a young woman sitting on it. She had light brown hair coiled on the back of her head in a bun, and was wearing a plain looking dress. Her eyes had a strange light in them that gave Nico chills.

“I told everybody to leave,” Nico said.

“Yeah, bitch,” Isis spat. “Scram.”

“No,” the young woman said. “I don't think I shall be going anywhere.”

“We need in that box,” Nico said. “I'm sorry, but you have to move.”

“Make me,” the woman said, glaring at him.

Isis stomped her bare foot on the floor, anklets jingling.

“I've got muscle with me now. Your time is up. I told you my friends would come through for me.”

“Your friends don't frighten me,” the woman said, arranging her hands in her lap placidly. “That one there is one of mine.”

Isis gasped.

“Et tu, Brute?” She declared, looking at Nico in devastation.

“I don't even know you, lady,” Nico insisted. “I just need the bones and I'll be on my way.”

“My bones don't belong to you,” the woman, who Nico realized was Catherine herself, said.

“You're Saint Catherine?” Nico's jaw dropped. It had never occurred to him that saints were real in the way that the gods were. When he thought about it, he didn't necessarily see why they couldn't be, but the concept confused him on a fundamental level.

“I am. And you've been baptised, young man,” Catherine said. “You've obviously been corrupted by paganism, but I think I can fix that.”

“Paganism? Well, maybe,” he said. “But you both seem real to me, so...” He glanced between Isis and Catherine. “Is this, like, a roommate disagreement?”

“No,” both women said at once.

“My soul is not rooming here,” Catherine said. “It lives in heaven with God, obviously. This is only a fragment of my being. Part of me is also in Siena.”

“And I've got fragments of me all over the damn place,” Isis said. “Way more than you.”

“I get more prayers,” Catherine said.

“I can do magic,” Isis said.

Nico was getting a headache.

“I'm sure you're both very powerful and revered,” he said. “But Catherine, I'm taking Isis's side in this one. She gets very little worship in this area, and your people built right over her temple. She's not even on the signage; it's mislabeled. It says Minerva.”

Catherine flushed a little.

“What difference does it make what pagan demon is on the sign,” she muttered.

Nico remembered what he'd read about her on the sign.

“You were a brilliant scholar in life,” he said. “There's no way you're okay with a mistake on your sign.”

She huffed.

“Fine,” she said. “I'll give you a bone if you write a letter to the pope for me about getting the sign changed. I used to be famous for my correspondence, but I can't write to mortals anymore. I'll dictate for you.”

“Okay,” Nico said. “I can do that.”

“And I want you to knock down that ugly obelisk outside. It's phallic.”

“And what's wrong with that?” Isis said, furious. “You see, Nico, this is why I can't stand Catholics. They've got a superiority complex as bad as the pagan Romans with none of their open mindedness.”

“That isn't true,” Catherine said. “If you wanted to convert we could make a saint of you, too.”

“And give up everything that makes me, me?” Isis asked. “No thank you.”

“I offered,” Catherine shrugged.

“I'm not knocking anything down,” Nico said. “But I'll write your letter. Is that okay?”

Catherine nodded, and with a sigh of relief Nico hunted down a pen and paper from a side office. He took down everything Catherine said, realizing too late that the letter was going to be long, theological, and complex.

Thirty pages later he put the pen down.

“Your handwriting is horrendous,” Catherine said. “But it will suffice. Can you deliver that to the Pope, please?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I'll figure something out.”

She slid off the sarcophagus and he heard a click as it unlocked.

“Only take a little one,” she said as he leaned over and opened it.

“Her skull!” Isis shouted eagerly. “Her skull for my obelisk!”

Nico stared into the sarcophagus.

“Where's your head?” He asked Catherine.

“Siena,” she smirked.

Isis let out a wail of despair, falling to her knees. Nico reached in and pocketed a toe bone, which Catherine gave a nod of approval to. Then he turned back to Isis.

“I'm sorry,” he said to her.

“I need some air,” she said, walking outside.

Nico made to follow her, but then a thought struck him.

“Catherine, you were a martyr, right?”

“No,” she said.

“Seriously?”

“You read my signage,” she shrugged. “Nowhere did it say I was a martyr. I was highly respected in my time. You need to study more history, child.”

“Yeah, I guess,” he said, disappointed.

“And go to mass once in a while.”

“No thanks,” he said, striding out after Isis.

“Don't forget my letter!” Catherine called out after him.

Isis stood beneath the obelisk, looking up at it.

“You okay?”

“Eh,” she shrugged. “What's another defeat? I should be used to it at this point,” she said. “I'm not going to cry over it.”

He stood beside her in silence, looking up at the obeliesk, which was held by a stone elephant.

“I used to pride myself on the longevity of my worship,” she said. “Out of my pantheon, I enjoyed the most international success. My cult worship was something to behold,” she smiled. “That's how I knew Persephone. We were both married to death gods, and we both had cults.”

“What were those like?”

“They evolved over time, as everything does,” Isis said. “But the celebrations and initiations, the worship, they were all intense and magical and thrilling. There's been nothing like it before or since,” she sighed. “I've always coexisted happily with other gods,” she said. “These Catholic saints, or gods, or whoever they are, never embraced me. There were some pagan gods they accepted into the fold, in their own way, but it wasn't for me. I find them difficult to deal with.”

“You're honestly the first god I've met who has brought them up. I didn't know they existed. I mean, not in this way.”

“She said you're one of them,” Isis said. “You never heard of a saint before?”

“No, of course I have, I just... forgot about them, I guess.”

“They're strange. They have shrines and temples and relics, and people pray to them-- A good number of them were never real humans to begin with. But call them gods and they go ballistic,” Isis said. “Better to leave it alone. They have issues.”

Nico nodded. Isis was entitled to her opinions, but he wasn't sure he felt comfortable agreeing with them. Catholicism had been an important part of his grandmother's life, and the lives of many of the people he'd known growing up, and he knew how seriously they'd taken their beliefs. If saints didn't consider themselves gods, he felt inclined to respect the way they chose to identify. Who was he to determine who was right and who was wrong in matters of divinity?

“I'm sensing that Rome is a complicated place,” he said judiciously.

“You can say that again,” she agreed.

He looked down at the letter from Catherine.

“I guess I ought to get this to the Pope somehow,” he said. “Whatever Catherine is, I can tell she's nobody to mess with.”

“No, she isn't,” Isis grumbled. “I'll come with you. I need to vent.”

Chapter Text

Nico and Isis walked arm in arm through the streets of Rome, taking a long route toward Vatican city, winding down alleys and exploring every piazza they passed through. Isis told him the origin of every obelisk they passed by, as well as every Roman ruin and church. It made for extremely slow walking, but Nico hung on her every word. She'd had drama with both the Greek and Roman iterations of every god, and run ins with a lot of saints, too. It sounded like she was a very social goddess with a huge network of relationships and histories. She talked for hours and barely had time to mention her original pantheon back in Egypt, which said a lot for how long she'd lived.

Eventually they stood staring up at the walls of the Vatican.

“Uh,” Nico said. “How does this work?”

Isis glanced at the sky.

“He always has such good timing,” she said. Nico looked up and saw a wiry man in a microfiber polo shirt and tiny neon running shorts descending from the sky on winged sandals.

“Isis,” the man said, tipping his baseball cap to the goddess. “Nico di Angelo, I presume?”

“Yes, that's me,” Nico said. “Uh, Hermes?”

“Mercury,” he said.

“Sorry.”

“No big deal,” Mercury shrugged. “Nico, I have a package for you from Olympus,” he said, handing it to him from a shoulder bag.

“Thanks,” Nico said, taking it. It had a stamp on it with an eagle, which alarmed him at first until he saw that it was an eagle flying over Mount Ida. “From Ganymede?” He asked, knowing it to be the case.

“Yeah,” Mercury said. “Welp, better run--”

“Wait,” Nico dug out Catherine's letter. “This is for the Pope. Can you deliver it?”

“Sure,” Mercury said. “No problem. By the way,” he looked Nico over. “Who are you exactly, Nico di Angelo of the Underworld?”

“I'm a demigod,” Nico said. “Son of Hades.”

“You keep some company for a demigod,” Mercury glanced at the package in his hand and at Isis. “Correspondence with the Pope, huh?”

“It's a favor for St. Catherine.”

“Right. Yeah. Nothing weird about that,” Mercury laughed. “Whatever. I've delivered stranger mail. Take care, son of Hades! Good seeing you, Isis.”

Mercury flew into the Vatican and disappeared from sight among the gleaming white columns. Nico and Isis went to sit on a bench while he opened the package.

“You're a friend of Ganymede?” She asked him.

“We've only met once,” Nico said. “He's really nice, though.” Inside the package was a box containing a cell phone. It looked brand new and had a magical signature to it. There was a lightning bolt logo on the outside.

It started ringing. Nico picked up.

“Hello?”

“You got it!” Ganymede said excitedly. “Nico, you won't believe it! Zeus said I can come hang out with you in the mortal world!”

“Seriously?” Nico asked. “I thought he didn't like me!”

“He said any son of Hades would be sure to keep me out of trouble, since you're boring and a stick in the mud,” he said. “Isn't that great?”

“Boring? Yeah, that's great, I guess,” Nico said. “Well, I'm in Rome, but I'm actually hanging out with Isis right now--”

“I love her! I'm on my way.”

A few seconds later Ganymede soared down from the sky on the back of an eagle.

“Different eagle,” he said when he saw Nico's look of alarm. “Hey, dude,” he hugged him. “I'm so excited! I haven't been able to run around on my own in ages!”

“He's that protective of you?” Nico asked.

“No, I just get into too much trouble. Isis! So good to see you, gorgeous,” he said, hugging her. “You coming out with us tonight?”

“I wouldn't miss it!” She said, lighting up. They both looked at Nico.

“Where are we going?” He asked nervously.

“Where aren't we going?” Ganymede exclaimed.

First, the group went shopping. Ganymede's credit card was electric blue, and he bought so many strange items of clothing that Nico was almost tempted to see what parties on Olympus were like just to see if he pulled off some of the outfits. Isis bought a pink wig and a matching pink sequin dress. Ganymede settled on a neon green jumpsuit, and he talked Nico into a purple trenchcoat and made him promise to wear his sunglasses inside all night to complete the look.

The look they were going for must have been 'recently escaped from the insane asylum,' based on the reactions they were getting. But as the afternoon crept toward evening, and the shadows grew deeper, Nico realized he was actually having fun. Ganymede and Isis took his shy and broody demeanor as a challenge to make him lighten up as much as possible, and there was little he could do but go along with it.

After shopping, Ganymede took them to a wine bar where they drank and ate suppli. He caught up with Isis on about a hundred years of gossip, which Nico listened to with some disdain. Most of it was about Zeus, and it wasn't good, although Ganymede took his side in every incident he recounted.

He was explaining Dionysus's punishment when he caught Nico's attention.

“I had no idea Mr. D was being punished,” Nico said. “That explains why he was so miserable all the time.”

“Of course he's miserable; he's sober,” Ganymede said, snapping his fingers and refilling his companion's wine glasses. The bartender gave the three of them a confused glance, but he said nothing about it. “Poor bastard,” Ganymede continued. “I hope Zeusy forgives him soon. He got some time shaved off his sentence after the Titan War.”

“The what?” Nico asked.

“You must have been asleep,” Ganymede said. “A son of Poseidon saved the world from Kronos. Lots of people died. You know how it goes.”

“You mean Percy Jackson,” Nico said. Ganymede nodded.

“He was offered immortality and turned it down,” Isis supplied. “Little fool.”

“I heard he wanted to be mortal for his girlfriend, the daughter of Athena.”

“Annabeth,” Nico said.

“How embarrassing,” Isis snorted. “Giving up eternal life for a pubescent fling.”

“He might have had other reasons,” Nico said. “I'd never want to be immortal.”

“No? Why not?” Ganymede asked.

“I look forward to dying,” Nico said. “It's peaceful. Nobody bothers you anymore. Nothing bad can happen.”

“Says the kid whose home address is currently just, 'the underworld,'” Ganymede said. “Most mortals don't have the kind of insider knowledge you do.”

“That's true,” Nico said. “But maybe if they knew it wasn't so bad they'd be less afraid.”

“I think it's built in,” Isis said, draining her wine and waving Ganymede off when he tried to refill it. “A cornered animal fights. Beasts sniff out mates and hump. And humans fear death. And worse, they kill each other to buy themselves another day. It's pathetic, really.”

“That is a shame,” Nico said. He found the conversation thought provoking. Unlike the religious tradition he'd grown up with, the Greek afterlife was remarkably neutral. Life was so often far worse than neutral that most people should, logically, have not feared death. But then again...

“What about Christians?” Nico said. “Obviously they believe in their own type of afterlife. And ancient Egyptians-- Isis, do your followers go to my underworld, or do they go to the Duat? Does it depend on where they were born, or what time they lived in, or what they believed? And is there somewhere else depending on if they were in one of those cults?”

“Oh, honey, there are so many different ways death can play out. I have no idea how it's determined what afterlife one gets,” she said. “I answer prayers that are addressed to me, even if they come to me a little sideways. It's beyond me to try and pick through the specific religious and cultural beliefs of every person I work with. It's just too complicated, and frankly, it's none of my business. If I get a prayer, I'll try to answer it. Even if they only believed in me a little bit for the space of a few seconds, sometimes that's all it takes.”

“Right,” Nico said, not really understanding.

“Talk to my husband sometime,” she sighed. “He's good at explaining this stuff.”

“You should be asking your father all this,” Ganymede laughed. “He's the snobbish thinking kind of god, anyhow.”

“What kind of god does that make you?” Nico asked.

“The foppish drinking kind!” Ganymede exclaimed. “Gelato break?”

Nico and Isis followed eagerly, and they had gelato on the Ponte Fabricio overlooking the Tiber. Nico had straciatella flavor.

“I know a club in Termini we can check out,” Isis said.

Nico and Ganymede followed her to a tiny metal door in an alley. She knocked twice and it opened.

“Are you on the list?” The bouncer, who was a cyclops, asked.

“Always am,” she winked.

He stepped aside and let them in, his large eye following their every move as they entered.

Nico had to do a double take. The first thing that caught his eye was a satyr in the corner ferociously humping a tree. Then he noticed the tree was reciprocating.

“What kind of place is this?” He asked, seeing nymphs and satyrs dancing with wild abandon. There were some humans who he thought might be demigods spinning around with them, and a bunch of mortal women in states of undress who were smashing plates and screaming.

“It used to be one of Dionysus's haunts,” Isis said. “Until he was put on probation. The maenads run it now.”

So that's who the women were. Nico had never seen so many exposed breasts in his life. The scene was chaotic and loud and flashing with strobe lights, and he found it hard to take in.

“Ganymede, this isn't really my scene,” he said. “I should go. You have fun.”

“Give it a half hour,” Ganymede said. “Trust me.” He leapt over the bar and shoved the bartender out of the way. “Who wants shots?” He said loudly.

Everyone started cheering.

“Come on,” Isis said, grabbing shots for the two of them and pulling Nico to the dance floor. “I'll teach you to dance.”

Nico wasn't a very good dancer, but no one seemed to pay much attention to him when Isis was dancing, undulating in ways he didn't think a normal human body could pull off. He just danced awkwardly next to her and hoped nobody noticed how dumb he looked.

He took a break to check on Ganymede behind the bar. His mixology skills were terrifying; he was pouring something on fire up the throat of a Maenad whose friends were holding her upside down.

“I'll take a dance break soon,” Ganymede said, pouring a tower of rainbow shots and pushing a range of blues and greens towards Nico. “Start drinking. I saw that dancing. We gotta loosen you up.”

Nico was already several drinks into the night and was still awkward, so he was pretty sure it wasn't something alcohol could cure. Still, he slid onto a bar stool and drank, glancing over his shoulder at the mass of writhing bodies behind him from time to time, mostly to make sure the Maenads weren't throwing things in his direction.

A tall, elegant woman in a purple velvet cocktail dress strolled out of a back room. She got a few polite nods and muttered something to the maenads, then went to the bar.

“A pleasure to see you in the establishment,” she told Ganymede, who smiled at her over another concoction. “Would you do me the honor?”

“Anything for you, my lady,” he winked, mixing up a new drink for her. “This will knock your socks off. Guaranteed.”

She took a sip.

“Oh, that's something special,” she said. “It tastes like I'm watching fireworks on a beach!”

“Want one, Nico?” He asked.

“Sure,” Nico said. “Thank you.”

“I'm not sure we've met,” the woman said.

“My name is Nico di Angelo,” he said. “Demigod. Son of Hades.”

“Ariadne,” the woman said. “Immortal. Wife of Dionysus.”

“You're Mister D's wife?”

She chuckled.

“Mister D,” she said. “That's cute. Quite a few demigods frequent this place, but most of them are European. I've only had a couple from Camp Half Blood, and they all tell me my husband is a miserable lout to the children,” she said, twisting her mouth unhappily.

“I think he's lonely,” Nico said, trying to be diplomatic without feeding her platitudes.

She blinked back a single, elegant tear. She had thick, dark lashes, and her eyeshadow was a glittery silver. Her tear traced a line of silver down her face. It was a cool look, but Nico felt sorry for her.

“It just feels like Zeus is punishing me, too,” she said. “And I didn't do anything wrong. It's so unfair.”

“Oh, honey,” Ganymede said, leaning over the bar and reaching out to squeeze her hand. “I know. He's a meanie. But it'll pass. It's only time.”

She nodded, sniffling.

“I'm fine,” she said. “I should call him tonight and see how he's doing, my poor Mister D,” she said, giggling a little. “What did you get?” She asked Nico.

Ganymede had placed a martini glass in front of him with a pitch black substance in it that looked like liquid darkness.

“I had to whip up something spooky for the son of Hades,” Ganymede said, winking at Nico.

Nico took a sip.

“Woah, that's amazing!” He said. “It actually tastes like the fields of Asphodel!”

“Is that a good thing?” Ganymede looked at Ariadne like, what a weirdo.

“Yeah, it's cool and refreshing,” Nico said.

“Speaking of the underworld,” Ariadne said, stirring her drink and clinking ice. “How's my father?”

Nico had to think for a minute. He looked at Ariadne closely.

“You're Mino's daughter,” he realized. He had to backtrack in his mind through the story of Ariadne, Theseus, Daedalus and the Minotaur. Minos had been king of Crete, and had been responsible for everything that happened. Ariadne had been the rebellious princess that dared to stand up to him.

“Have you seen him around at all?”

“I see him a lot,” he said. “We were just talking the other day, actually. He's really nice.”

Ariadne raised her eyebrows.

“I see,” she said.

“I guess you guys don't have a good relationship?” Nico asked.

“We don't have any relationship,” she said. “He's dead.”

“Right,” Nico said.

“He's also an asshole,” she muttered.

“What made you ask about him?”

“I don't know,” she sighed. “Too much time on my hands with my husband gone. Just thinking about the old days.” She fiddled with her hair, her thick dark curls reminding Nico of her father's hair. She had the same amber highlights, and beneath the layers of hair he saw earrings flash, the same golden bell shape as Minos's, although hers bore a pattern like unspooling thread.

“He said something weird the other day,” Nico said. “That his worst deeds were remembered and his best forgotten. What do you think he meant by that? He didn't elaborate.”

She sipped her drink. Ganymede jumped back over the bar and slid into a seat beside Nico, putting an arm around his shoulders.

“He's probably just frustrated that his early years of ruling aren't brought up very often,” Ariadne said. “He was a great king, a progressive one. Crete prospered under his auspice, and he was Zeus's pride and joy, exalted among men. He was the golden child. He was a contender for godhood, in fact. And then he fucked it all up.”

“What did he do?”

“He refused to sacrifice a perfect bull calf to Poseidon. He wanted it for himself. It was a beautiful little thing. Big black eyes and a pink little nose, just precious-- but he should not have kept it. His sin of pride offended his uncle, who punished him by enticing my mother into her encounter with a bull-- You're probably aware of how that played out.”

Nico nodded.

“My father was humiliated, and devastated that his father, Zeus, never came to his defense. I watched as the great king I'd grown up idolizing became a laughingstock in the eyes of his subjects. In his panic to regain some dignity he made more bad decisions that compounded on each other until he was unrecognizeable. Jealous, angry, and bitter, he took the slightest disagreement as a betrayal.” She snorted. “He was dead to me long before he actually died.”

“So his fatal flaw was hubris?”

“I think so,” Ariadne said.

Nico felt like he understood Minos a lot better now. He was an ancient king, but he was also another demigod who'd desperately wanted to please his godly father. It was a story anyone at Camp Half Blood could relate to, at least to an extent.

“If it makes you feel better, he's very humble now,” Nico said.

Ariadne laughed.

“Of course he is,” she said. “He's gone down in history as a villain, and he has no one to blame but himself.”

Nico was satisfied with her answer. He continued sipping his drink.

“I wonder what my fatal flaw will be,” he said.

“Not partying hard enough,” Ganymede snorted. “Come on, down that thing and let's dance, kid!”

Nico obeyed, downing his drink, which he would have much rather savored. He was immediately hit with a familiar glow of ambrosia that startled him.

“I wish you'd told me ambrosia was in it,” Nico said. “I'm still gun-shy after my last incident.”

“I'd never put a dangerous amount,” Ganymede reassured him, leading him to the dance floor. Nico finally started to feel drunk.

“What else was in there?”

“A bunch of stuff you've never heard of,” Ganymede said, “And some of Dionysus's private stash he keeps in a hidden compartment. I know his tricks.”

No wonder the room was spinning. Nico's heart was pounding, and within the next few minutes he was dancing with the maenads, forgetting for the time being how scary they were. The music pounded in his bones, and he felt Ariadne take his hands and dance with him, and then Isis, and the Ganymede, and then it was a blur of music and laughter and joy.

Chapter Text

Nico blinked an eye open blearily. He was in bed, he realized, and sunlight was blazing through the window. He rolled over sleepily and nearly jumped out of his skin.

Ganymede was in bed next to him, completely naked. He glanced down, panicking, but he was still fully dressed, including his tacky purple trenchcoat. He had a blanket pulled over him like he'd been tucked in. He was reassured, and his initial shock subsided.

He looked around the room and ascertained nothing. It was just a normal white walled room with a big bright window overlooking a vineyard. He looked at Ganymede again. He was beautiful, lying there in the morning sunlight, the sun making his long, elegant limbs shine golden and lovely.

Don't think about that, he told himself, rolling over and staring at the opposite wall. It was really, really hard not to think about it, though. Being a teenager was so annoying sometimes.

Why was he so turned on? He wasn't into Ganymede in that way, at least he was pretty sure, but he couldn't help it. He dug his fingernails into the blanket and closed his eyes, trying to ignore his raging hormones and go back to sleep.

Ganymede rolled over and flung an arm over Nico. Nico flinched and pushed his arm back off.

That woke Ganymede.

“Mornin', sunshine,” he said. “Or should I say darkness,” he snickered. He threw his arm around Nico again and kissed him on the forehead.

“Can you stop, please,” Nico said, pushing him off again. “And put some clothes on.”

“Fine,” Ganymede said. “Grumpy much?” He stood and walked around the room. “I don't like sleeping restricted by fabric,” he said. He glanced at Nico. “Were you looking at my ass?”

“No,” Nico said, but his face turned totally red. Ganymede laughed, but it wasn't in a mean way.

“You can admit it. I know I look good,” he snickered. He picked up a sheet off the floor and wrapped it around his waist.

He sat on the bed again.

“Better?”

Nico grumbled something. Ganymede lay back down in bed where he was and stared at the ceiling.

“I don't have a crush on you or anything,” Nico said.

“I didn't think you did,” Ganymede said. “Attraction doesn't mean that much. You're just not used to being around gorgeous hunks like me.”

Nico couldn't help but laugh at that, relieved Ganymede didn't take it seriously.

“I think you're hot, too,” Ganymede said. “Just not my type.”

He knew what Ganymede's type was, so that didn't surprise him.

“I'm not hot,” Nico said. Next to Ganymede's tanned, athletic form, Nico felt like a cockroach with depression.

“Yes, you are,” Ganymede reassured him. “Just, like, a Timothee Chalamet hot.”

“What's a Timothee Chalamet? Is that good?”

“It's good. I can think of tons of guys who would be into you.”

“Really?”

“You're a beautiful youth! A son of the big three, well connected,” he added, pointing to himself. “Men would tear each other apart to be your erastes.”

“Erastes? What is that?”

“You don't know?” Ganymede raised his eyebrows.

“No. Should I? Does everybody else know?” Nico asked, panicking. “You've got to remember, I've only been a teenager for a little while. I'm not caught up yet.”

“That's okay, chill out. You're fine. An erastes is an older man who courts you until you agree to a relationship. Then they'd initiate you into manhood by teaching you about sex. And other stuff.”

Nico thought on that for a minute.

“Maybe they did that in ancient times,” he said. “Teenagers don't date grown adults anymore. I'm pretty sure it's illegal.” He could just imagine what the counselors at camp would have to say about that. Chiron didn't even let boys and girls in the same cabin.

“I still feel 19,” Ganymede shrugged. “But I'm actually thousands of years old. So who am I allowed to date? Another 19 year old? Or someone who feels forty but is actually also a few thousand years old?”

“But you're a god,” Nico said. “Of course that works differently.”

“Who says you can't date a god?” Ganymede shrugged.

Nico bit his tongue before he could say, “I wouldn't want to.” You never knew when a god might take offense, and besides, he wasn't sure it was a bridge he ought to burn. He'd met so many gods who were really nice... But he was being ridiculous.

“I'm nobody special,” he said finally. “I don't think that's gonna happen.”

“Well, nobody can say your fatal flaw is hubris,” Ganymede said. “I like seeing you come out of your shell more, Nico. Yesterday was exciting. I haven't had an adventure like that in a while.”

“Do you want to keep hanging out?” Nico asked hopefully.

“I was actually hoping you were free for the next couple weeks,” Ganymede said. “Zeus is working on a project and I have nothing to do.”

“I don't have to be anywhere until March 21st,” Nico said. He thought guiltily of Bianca, but he knew she could stand to wait a little longer. Time meant nothing to her now.

Isis strode into the room and flopped down onto the bed between them.

“I feel like performing some dark magic later tonight,” she said, staring at the ceiling. “Will you boys help me?”

“Of course!” Nico said eagerly, making her laugh.

“I made pancakes!” Ariadne called from the kitchen.

The three of them headed out to find her. The house they were in was a massive Tuscan style villa, with tiled floors and huge windows that looked out over a vineyard.

They headed down the hall. Nico noticed that the floor was tiled with a mosaic depicting maenads and Bacchus in a frenzy.

“This is Dionysus's house,” he said.

“Yeah, Ariadne invited us back after the club,” Isis said. “You fell asleep before the after-party even got started.”

“I think I'm okay with that,” he said.

Ariadne was in a large kitchen making ricotta pancakes on a large stove. The kitchen was bright and airy, with more huge windows providing views of the rolling hills of Tuscany and a massive vineyard stretching out across the horizon. She gestured for the three guests to sit at a table, where a young woman who appeared to be about Nico's age was drinking grape juice and reading a book.

“This is Semele, my mother in law,” Ariadne said. “Semele, the new one is Nico, son of Hades.”

“Greetings,” Semele said.

“You've come back from the dead,” Nico said, looking at her in fascination.

She nodded.

“Di brought her back after he was deified,” Ariadne said, setting a platter of pancakes and a pot of hot coffee on the table. As she waved her hand, an array of plates and cups appeared at each place, along with a large pile of grapes.

“The grapes just happen,” she added, looking at Nico with humor in her eyes. “I think of it as Di saying hello. Or Mister D,” she giggled. “I can't get over how funny that is.”

Nico settled into his seat and let Ariadne serve him pancakes, and found he could not stop staring at Semele. He could sense traces of the underworld still lingering on her, but she was clearly alive in a very real way, and immortal to boot.

“Staring is rude,” Semele said. She looked very young, and could have fit in at Camp Half Blood easily, or at any mortal high school, but her eyes looked much older than her face.

“Sorry,” Nico said. He tried to focus on eating pancakes like everyone else. The others put ambrosia syrup on theirs, which looked delicious, but he abstained. “I want to bring my sister back from the dead,” he finally said. “Exactly like your son did with you.”

“Then do it,” Semele said. “You're a god, aren't you?”

“I'd been meaning to ask about that,” Ariadne said. “Are you sure you're not a god? Because demigods don't usually hang out with us like this.”

“Wouldn't it be obvious if I was?” Nico asked.

“Not at all,” Isis said. “It's a vague term. I told you, I even think the saints are gods sometimes.”

“No. I promise I'm just a demigod.”

“It's a funny story,” Ganymede said, his mouth full. “He drank too much ambrosia and Persephone had to wake him from a coma.”

“Were you trying to forcibly deify yourself in order to get your sister back?” Ariadne asked. “It doesn't work like that.”

“I didn't have a well thought out agenda,” Nico said. “Would you mind telling me how Dionysus saved you?” He asked Semele, unable to help himself.

“I was in Asphodel and he came and got me. I don't know how he was able to.”

“I would think that if gods could resurrect people easily, they'd do it more often,” Nico said, thinking of his mother.

Isis nodded.

“Every situation is unique,” she said. “Fate has to weave a truly remarkable thread for it to happen. Semele was wronged and deserved a second chance. Her son was deified and was able to give that to her. That is a rare circumstance.”

Nico's own mother had been killed by Zeus. She probably deserved more time. But another glance at Semele made him feel differently. She'd clearly been a teenager when Zeus impregnated her. She would never have met her son if he hadn't brought her back. Nico's mother had lived more than twice as long as Semele, and had been a wealthy, educated woman who traveled a lot. She'd happily raised her children for over a decade with the support of a relatively involved Hades, and a close extended family. As much as his heart ached at losing her, he couldn't justify why she deserved more life than she had had. Especially not when her afterlife was more comfortable than most in Elysium.

Bianca, on the other hand, was only twelve when she'd passed. She'd just become a hunter of Artemis. She hadn't even regained her memories. There was so much they needed to right between the two of them. Nico had to find a way to bring her back. Semele's story only motivated him to believe it could be done.

“Bianca was a really special person,” Nico said. Although he couldn't articulate why, he knew it was true. “My father isn't supportive of my plan and Persephone doesn't think it's possible. Do you think if I asked Dionysus, he'd tell me how he did it?”

“I don't see why not,” Ariadne said. “But you say you aren't a god. How would you repeat what he did?”

“I don't know yet,” he said. “Maybe there's a chance Artemis might... No, I doubt it,” he said.

“What about Artemis?” Ganymede asked.

“Bianca was one of her hunters,” Nico said. “I thought there was a chance she'd help. But I barely know her. We've met, but she wasn't very nice to me.”

“That was the old you,” Ganymede said. “Now you're doing important work for your father, and you practically reek of Cthonic power. You're not just a dumb little demigod, you're somebody. She'll have to give you the time of day, at least.”

“Feel free to name drop me,” Isis said. “You helped me even though you're baptised. I don't want you to regret it,” she smirked.

“And me,” Ganymede said. “You got me out of house arrest for the first time in forever. I owe you one.”

“And me,” Ariadne added. “But you have to promise to give Di a care package from me. He doesn't like Hermes, so I hate sending them through him.”

“Yes, of course,” Nico said. “Thank you. You've all been very kind to me. I'm not sure what I did to deserve it. Helping you is what I'm supposed to do. I didn't expect anything in return.”

“Chiron taught you well,” Ariadne said, beaming.

“Dear, we're gods,” Isis said. “We know to invest in talent when we see it. Best to get in early.”

The rest of the morning was taken up by pleasant chat and delicious pancakes. Nico was quiet. The discussions of the day left him in a thoughtful mood.

It was fascinating to see how the immortals spoke to one another. They talked for hours, recounting old stories and gossiping about what people were up to now. They had neither minimums nor maximums when it came to food, so they grazed on fruit and pancakes until the sun was going down. Nico didn't mind it, because they were nice people who made him feel like he wasn't a burden. Their sense of time was just different. He respected it and enjoyed the simple day gratefully.

“We're probably boring you to tears,” Ganymede said. “You don't know half the people we're talking about.”

“I don't mind at all,” Nico said.

Eventually, as evening fell, Isis left to go see a man about a leopard and Semele went for a walk in the vineyard. Nico and Ganymede went to sit on a balcony overlooking the vines. They caught glimpses of Semele from time to time, running her hand along the vines, eating grapes here and there as she went. She didn't seem happy, but Nico hoped she'd at least found some contentment in her eternal life.

Nico took another look at his list. He added a couple of items on his own – Deliver Ariadne's package to Mr D, talk to Artemis, and find something to do with Catherine's toe.

“Do you want to do something tomorrow?” Ganymede asked. “Something low key, maybe? You're probably tired. Humans get tired a lot, I remember.”

Nico didn't feel tired at all.

“We can do whatever,” Nico said. “Have you been to Rome much? I haven't been since I was little. It seems like it would have a lot of fun stuff for a god to do.”

“Of course,” Ganymede snorted. “I went by Catamitus there. And let me tell you, I was worshiped. Maybe not as much as Greece, but...” He rolled his eyes. “Let's just say I still get name dropped. Sometimes in places I'd really rather not be,” he added. “Cough. The Vatican. Cough,” he said, pretending to choke on something.

Nico decided he didn't want to know.

“Do you have anything you want to see? Visit your papal friends?”

“I'm not visiting those freaks,” he frowned. “I deeply disapprove of their whole deal,” he said. “Let's go see some art. I like seeing art of me and Zeusy.”

“I'm down,” Nico said.

For the next few days Nico and Ganymede went to every museum in Rome. It was incredibly educational, because nearly every classical painting depicted people Ganymede knew, and he talked shit about everybody. He knew almost too much gossip, and it was clear to Nico that he had way too much time on his hands. Being a cupbearer was not a very demanding job to begin with, and he shared the responsibility with Hebe, so he had a lot of free time. Nico asked a couple of times about what Zeus was up to, but he never got anything out of him. Zeus was the one person Ganymede was careful talking about.

They left the Vatican museums as one of the last. It was large, crowded, and full of some of the most beautiful art Nico had ever seen.

“I've never been here before,” Ganymede admitted as they explored the long galleries full of Roman busts and portraiture. “I always get the feeling I'm being watched when I hang around this area. This is also the first time I've visited that they haven't told me they're closed for renovations. They always say that, but I can clearly see them letting other people in. So rude.”

“Who's watching you? Like, priests and stuff?”

“You know who,” he muttered. “Them,” he jerked a thumb at a painting of a fleshless Saint Bartholomew with his skin hanging around his neck. “I'll suck it up. There's a bunch of pictures of me that they're hoarding away. I have to see them. It's important.” He swallowed. “Thanks for coming with me,” he added. “I wouldn't have the guts if you weren't here.”

“The last saint I met was pretty reasonable,” Nico said. “They might not all be so bad. There's so many of them, at least a few ought to be nice people.”

Their explorations went uneventfully for most of the day, and they blended in with the huge crowds of people well enough that Nico was reassured they didn't stand out.

They were looking at a collection of pottery when Nico felt something strange.

“Someone just walked in,” he said, looking up and glancing around the room. Most of the tourists weren't interested in pottery, so that area was relatively empty. There was a family from India on the other side of the room, with two kids who were walking around quietly, but other than them, they were alone.

Wait, Nico thought, catching sight of movement in the corner. There was a teenage girl with dark brown hair standing directly opposite them, staring right at him.

“What is it?” Ganymede asked. Nico had locked eyes with the girl, but neither of them had moved. She cocked her head, seemingly waiting on him to do something. She was dressed in a well-tailored business suit and dress pants that looked crisp and modern, but there was an aura of power radiating off of her. He couldn't see anything to indicate it visually, but she looked as though she was lit from within, like there was an invisible light behind her eyes, a glow that could be felt but not seen.

“Nico?” Ganymede asked. “What are you looking at?”

The girl's eyes locked onto Ganymede, and she glared, her eyes turning hard. She started walking toward them.

Nico knew her intentions could not be anything good. As she took a step, he lifted the tile below her feet just a few inches using his power over the earth, and she immediately tripped and fell into the pottery display. Pots began falling over one by one, knocking down an entire row.

The tourist family must have assumed one of the kids did it, and they started shouting. In the chaos Nico dragged Ganymede by the sleeve and pulled him out of the room. They joined a crowd of people in line to see the Sistine Chapel, and Nico breathed a sigh of relief that she would have more trouble finding them there.

“You really couldn't see her?” Nico asked.

“See who?”

“A saint,” Nico said. “She was a saint. She had a – she looked like a teenage girl, but I think she had a halo. I couldn't see it, but I could tell it was there.”

“Di immortales,” Ganymede whispered.

“Don't say that in here,” Nico said angrily. “She'll come back! She looked at you and got really pissed off all of a sudden. I don't think you're welcome here.”

“No shit,” Ganymede said. “You know what, I don't care. If they didn't want me coming here, they shouldn't have had so many pictures and statues of me. I'm not afraid of those assholes. I'm gonna look at every damn piece of art I please, and I'm gonna take my time about it, too. If they want to start something, they're more than welcome.”

“Right,” Nico swallowed. “Uh huh. Okay.”

“I'm not fucking scared,” Ganymede said. “Are you?”

“I'm more scared for you than I am for me,” he said. “I'm Catholic.”

“You're WHAT?” Ganymede roared.

“I mean I used to be,” Nico cringed. “I shouldn't have said that. Please don't hate me.”

Ganymede looked at him warily.

“Just don't go praying to Jeemus or whoever about me,” he said.

“You mean Jesus?”

“Whatever,” Ganymede said. “I don't need that kind of heat. I'm just a little fish in a big pond here.”

“I'm sure it's fine,” Nico sighed.

They followed the line of people into the Sistine Chapel. Ganymede took photos on his phone with the flash on, mouth agape, heedless of the security guards demanding that he stop. Nico didn't get any feeling of supernatural light, so he let his guard down. That was a mistake.

Ganymede was arguing with the security guard about his photos when Nico felt a tug at his sleeve. It was the girl.

“We need to talk,” she said.

“I don't want to talk to you,” he said. “Leave me and my friend alone.”

“I don't want any trouble,” she said. “I just want him to leave. But first I want to speak with you.”

Nico glanced at Ganymede.

“If you want them to let him go, you'd better do as I say,” she said.

Nico reluctantly followed her off to one side of the room. He had to fight through the crowd, but it seemed to part for her. He noticed that her feet didn't fully touch the ground.

“I really don't want any trouble,” he said, his heart pounding. “I'm already in over my head with one pantheon, okay, I can't handle another.”

“You're baptised,” she said. “And we don't like to see our people hanging out with the likes of him. What's your story? How did you become connected with the heathens?”

“My being baptised wasn't my choice,” he said. “I don't even remember it. And it's none of your business what I do with the heathens, if that's what you want to call them.”

“How is it you're able to see me when he can't?” She finally said, and he realized that was what she'd really been wondering about.

“I don't know,” he said.

She stared into his eyes.

“I'm a demigod, okay?” He said.

“No, you're not,” she snorted. “If what you mean is you're descended from a pagan demon--”

“Yeah, whatever you want to call it,” Nico said. “It's just semantics.”

“That doesn't explain why you can see me. You're far from the only half-demon to be baptised. Neither your bloodline nor your baptism is relevant. My own believers shouldn't be able to see me. The demon you call Jupiter shouldn't be able to see me. Why, then, can you?”

“Nope,” Nico said, immediately looking away from her. “I'm not doing this.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I'm not special. You don't need to take an interest in me. Please leave me alone.”

“But I have to figure out why,” she said.

“That's too bad,” he said. “I have about fifty million questions why. Why is a saint talking to me? Why are deities from two different religions interacting? Why can't you be more tolerant of other belief systems? Why are a bunch of geriatric, pedophilic homophobes hoarding half the world's art? And why can't you mind your own business?”

She stared at him, her eyes still hard as stone.

“I'm not going to get my answers, and I'm fine with that. I don't need to know everything. Have a nice day,” he said.

“My name is Thecla,” she called out after him once he'd turned around. “I'll be seeing you, Nico di Angelo of Venice.”

He whipped his head around, alarmed that she'd figured out his name.

“Baptised in 1932? You're looking good for your age, di Angelo.” She emphasized the words of his last name and smiled. “I'll be seeing you.”

She walked out of the chapel. That glowing feeling disappeared. He took a deep breath.

“They made me delete the pictures,” Ganymede said, strolling over, having been just set free by the guards. “They took a lot of interest in my camera roll. I told them if they scrolled any more I was going to have to start charging.”

Nico couldn't help but laugh in spite of the weird tension of the day.

“Come on, let's go look for you,” Nico said, linking arms with his friend. “That girl isn't going to bother us anymore.”

Chapter Text

Nico and Ganymede finished exploring the Vatican museums with no further weird incidents. They kept exploring the city for a little while until Ganymede got bored of Rome and insisted they go somewhere else.

Nico had never intended to let his chores go by the wayside for so long, but Ganymede was very entertaining and he was learning a lot, so he didn't have a problem with it. They didn't spend all of their time together, but when he wasn't working, Ganymede had an endless list of things to see and do, and he was only allowed to go if Nico was there.

“You really keep me honest,” he said. “Zeus said I haven't been late for work once since I've been hanging out with you. That's because you always make sure I go back on time.”

“You've been late multiple times,” Nico said. “By over an hour.”

“Late by my standards is if I go over two hours,” Ganymede said. “What can I say? We didn't have clocks on Mount Ida.”

At his request, Nico took him to Istanbul and showed him the Hagia Sophia, as well as Beijing, since he'd taken an interest after Nico told him about his journeys. Nico got used to the rhythm of life sleeping in nice hotels, reading and researching whatever interested him, and waiting on Ganymede to show up. Ariadne had him over for meals regularly and asked him to share his memories of Dionysus at camp.

Isis also occasionally texted him to come help with something. She was working out of Ariadne's basement for the time being, in an empty cave tucked behind the wine cellar. He helped her with more than a dozen of her magic spells. They usually required him to hold back the head of a large animal for her to sacrifice or to pour out his own blood on an altar. It passed the time.

On one particular magical project, she asked him for Saint Catherine's toe and he carefully explained that he'd lost it. They both knew he was lying, but you didn't say no to gods directly unless you liked getting blasted to smithereens. She let it slide, but not without consequences.

“I need another saint's bone, if you don't have that one,” she said, her dark eyes flashing.

“I'll get one for you, goddess,” he said.

“Quickly,” she frowned.

Nico shadow traveled to the Basilica of Santa Maria in Cosmedin, in Rome. He'd marked down the location while he'd been researching the relics of martyrs in his spare time. He had hesitated to go after this particular relic because he wasn't sure how to replace the skull once he'd taken it. The skull of Saint Valentine was supposed to be prominently displayed here, and he knew Isis would see it as a great prize. Still, it would be noticed if he didn't pull off the heist perfectly.

He didn't want to keep Isis waiting, however. He'd have to figure it out on the fly.

He walked into the church and glanced over the sign. He always took care to do this after it had been so beneficial to him in dealing with Saint Catherine. This Basilica, he read, had been built overtop of a temple to Hercules.

That was a good sign. Hercules had a Disney movie. What saint could compete with that?

He went up to the spot where the skull was displayed, obscuring his activities from the mortals that were milling about the basilica using the mist.

There it was, sitting on a red cushion in a back: a skull that looked very old and very powerful. It was glowing a little bit, and Nico got a ringing noise sounding in his ears when he looked at it for too long.

He had to step back and take a deep breath. He'd never seen an object so magically powerful before, and it was kind of terrifying. Still, he stepped forward and prepared to smash the glass. This was scary, but an angry Isis was much scarier.

He shrugged off his jacket, balled up his fist inside the fabric, and made to bring it down on the glass hard. But as his hand made contact with the glass, he was suddenly hurled across the room.

His ass smacked into a pew, hard.

“Bad idea,” said a voice from behind him. Nico twisted his head around. There was a tall man sitting behind him that he assumed was probably Saint Valentine himself.

“You're going to tell me who sent you,” Saint Valentine said, in an overly calm voice. He didn't look at Nico, just stared forward at the altar with the crucifix above it. “I'm going to count down from five.”

“Nobody,” Nico said.

The slight ringing in his ears grew louder until it was painful.

“Four.”

“I don't have to tell you anything,” Nico said. “I don't work for you. Ow,” he whimpered. His brain felt like it was going to explode. It was like the worst headache he'd ever had.

“Three.”

The ringing in his ears grew louder again. Nico began to fear that his brain literally would explode. Would a saint really hurt somebody? Wasn't this religion supposed to be kinder than the Greco-Roman one? At least marginally...

“It was Hercules,” Nico said, knowing it was stupid. He feared a stranger less than a god he knew well, however. At least maybe Isis would back him up if Hercules came calling.

“I have Hercules thoroughly under control,” Saint Valentine said. “I know you're lying. And in the house of God, too? Big mistake.”

“Ah!” Nico crumpled to his knees on the floor, the pain unbearable. He was so stupid. He'd been such an idiot. How many people celebrated Valentine's day around the world each year? This guy was a powerhouse of epic proportions.

“Two.”

He didn't dare betray Isis. She had enough troubles with saints already, he couldn't add to it.

“One.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Nico begged. “I'll tell you. It was Nyx. This skull is for Nyx. I have it written down.”

He pulled his chores list, crumpled and coffee stained, from his pocket. It said there, in clear writing, “Bones of a martyr for Nyx.”

“Finally, the truth,” Valentine said, scoffing at him. “I don't know this Nyx, but her servants are fools if they think I am the martyr to steal from.”

Nico nodded.

“I'm an idiot, just let me go, please,” he said. “I won't bother you again.”

“Hmph,” Valentine said. “Thomas Aquinas said mercy is the greatest of all the virtues. On this basis, I will let you go. But you shall never darken this doorstep again,” he said.

“Of course,” Nico said. “I won't. I promise.”

Valentine waved a hand, and Nico found himself outside with no idea how he'd gotten there. He was shaking all over. It reminded him of when he'd seen Zeus the first time; he'd been overwhelmed by divine power. It also reminded him of when Apollo had told him not to darken his doorstep again. That choice of wording was starting to feel personal.

He wasn't sure if he'd ever step foot in a church again as long as he lived. The thought of it made him want to throw up. But how could he possibly avoid it now? He still owed Isis a martyr bone, and fast. Not to mention he owed a second one to Nyx.

This wasn't fair, he thought in frustration. Isis was putting him in danger, and so was his father. Saints didn't want their bones taken, that was clear. Hercules also obviously hadn't shown up to bail him out.

For a moment, he considering hitting the ground twice and summoning his father. He imagined himself saying, “Papa, the bad saint in there hurt me!” And Hades swooping in and having Valentine dragged to the depths of Tartarus by a horde of skeletons. But he was pretty sure it wouldn't play out like that. More likely he'd get lectured and berated until he died of old age. Or worse, assigned more chores.

Nico took out his phone, took a deep breath, and tried to come up with a plan. Rome seemed like a rough place for this bone stealing exercise. He doubted there was a single place on earth the saints were more powerful.

After some Wikipedia reading, he read that Saint Valentine had some bone fragments on the Island of Lesbos in Greece. The church they were in seemed small, and there wouldn't be as strong of a presence of Valentine there. It was probably foolish to test Valentine's patience again, but Nico was feeling petty. Revenge against someone that powerful would taste pretty sweet, he thought, the temptation too strong to resist.

He shadow traveled to Lesbos, specifically to the Catholic Church of Assumption of Theotokos. Shadow travel was a lot easier with Google Maps, he thought, smiling as he stared at exactly the place he had intended to go. He immediately turned around and walked down the street, where he found an ATM.

He took out ten thousand Euros using his Cthonic credit card and shoved the large wad of cash inside his jacket pocket. Then he waited in an alley for it to get dark.

He waited until he saw a gaggle of teen boys walking together down the sidewalk. He evaluated them carefully to make sure they were the right kind: troublemakers. They kept shoving each other, and they catcalled a young woman who was leaving a laundromat. Nico frowned. He wouldn't feel sorry if these kids got a bit of a headache.

“Hey,” he said, stepping out of the shadows and startling them. “I need your help with something. There's money in it if you pull it off.”

The three boys froze, staring at him.

“Who are you,” one of them, a tall, scruffy looking young man with a shaved head said. He was wearing track pants and a white tank, and Nico could tell from his aggressive tone that this kid was likely brave enough for this task.

“I'm somebody who wants the bones of St. Valentine from that church,” he said, pointing. “Tonight. How much to get them for me?”

Their eyes widened.

“How much you got?” The leader said. One of his friends was grinning.

Nico pulled the entire stack of cash from his pocket. It was a lot of money, and the teens started salivating.

“This is the ATM receipt from the ATM over there,” Nico showed them. “It's all real.”

“Why do you want the bones,” one boy said, the shortest one who looked younger than the others. However the leader of the three was already moving as he spoke. The leader and the second tallest one both rushed Nico at the same time and grabbed for the money in his hand.

Nico shadow traveled a few feet away.

“Don't bother trying to take it,” he said, frowning. “And don't piss me off or I'll find someone else.” He was actually glad they'd tried to rob him, because it meant he would feel less guilty if Valentine exploded their brains.

The shadow traveling didn't go over well based on their reactions. The boys began arguing amongst themselves. Finally, the leader stepped forward.

“If they don't do it, I will. Fuck it.”

The other two stepped up, too.

“We're doing it,” they said. “But you have to tell us if the police are coming, or we have to be able to leave a lookout outside.

Nico guessed that this wasn't their first robbery, and that this kind of money would be a big deal for these kids. They didn't look like they came from nice backgrounds, judging by the state of their ratty sneakers.

He gave them a thousand each.

“You get the rest when you bring me the bones,” he said. “Go ahead and spend some of this really quick if you still have doubts. Whatever happens, I need the bones in my hands tonight. You can't go in there and then chicken out, no matter what you see or hear inside the church. I can handle the police. They won't see you.”

They went into three different nearby shops and bought cigarettes and candy at all of them successfully with his money. There was a new, greedy light in their eyes upon their return.

“Ready? I'll make it so no one sees you,” Nico said, casting the mist over the entire area of the church. “You'll look like electricians to anyone watching. Now go.”

The boys steeled themselves and went in.

It took less than fifteen minutes before the bones were in his hands. The boys had done a classic smash and grab technique, they explained. That was exactly what Nico had tried in Rome, but these kids had pulled it off better. He placed the money into sweaty, twitching fingers, carefully divided into perfect thirds.

“Stay out of church for the next few months,” he said. “Or forever, if you want to be really safe. Not just that one, all of them.”

“Fine by me,” the leader said.

“Not with me,” the youngest said. “Hang on, what did we just do? Are we excommunicated or something?”

“Erm,” Nico bit his lip. Shit, he thought to himself. He just wanted to protect them from Valentine's wrath, but now he felt like he'd left them bereft of spiritual guidance. “Ugh. Fine. Okay, here's my number,” he said, writing it down on one of the hundred Euro notes. “Text me if you want to go back to church and I'll see if I can work something out.”

The boy nodded, and Nico shadow traveled back to Rome without further tarrying. He couldn't afford to stand there dawdling. It had been a spur of the moment plan, and he'd gotten what he needed. The rest didn't matter.

He'd taken so long, he was worried Isis would be furious with him. Panting, he ran up to her, giving her half of the shards of bone he'd shoved in his pocket.

“Small,” she muttered. “But they'll do. Fast work,” she added. It dawned on him that she'd probably have considered a full week fast work, because she was immortal and time meant nothing to her. He was still operating on a mortal schedule.

He sighed and sat down on the stairs. So much for the urgency he'd wasted energy on. He watched as Isis set up a giant cauldron in the basement cave room and began singing to herself in ancient Egyptian, stirring her new concoction happily.

Nico put his head in his hands. He was losing sight of his goal, he could feel it. He'd checked something off the list today only by coincidence. He'd actually forgotten about the list multiple times over the last few months. And he hadn't forgotten about Bianca, but he was starting to see how he might be able to. That scared him.

He went upstairs and went to bed early. He didn't sleep that night. He just stared at the ceiling of the guest room, counting the cracks in the ceiling and trying to remember his sister's face. He had to see her again. He needed to get focused.

The next day, Isis was still very pleased with him. Her spell had come out incredibly potent, and she was in a great mood. She decided to treat herself and her erstwhile assistant, as well as Ariadne and Ganymede, to a picnic in the Borghese garden. The four of them spent a relaxing day laying out on the grass drinking aperol spritzes and eating melon and ham.

Nico looked up from his snacking to see a familiar rainbow shimmer in the air in front of him. An Iris message materialized in the air, and a familiar face appeared, smiling at him warmly.

“Persephone,” he said, feeling immediately guilty. “I'm sorry, I haven't been keeping you up to date like I promised.”

“No, don't be sorry. It looks like you're having fun. I've been following your adventures on the Gram. Is that Ganymede?”

“Hi, Persephone,” he said, his mouth full of melon.

“Hey, lady,” Isis said, shoving Nico out of the way.

“Isis! Oh, wow, hi.” Persephone said. “I didn't know you were there. How long has it been?” She seemed a little awkward, and Nico wondered if they weren't on good terms any longer.

“Too long, my friend,” Isis said, sitting cross legged in front of the message. “How come you never call?”

“I should have,” Persephone admitted. “Sorry. How are you?”

“I'm okay. Been better, been worse,” Isis shrugged. “I heard you have a musical on Broadway right now.”

“A musical?” Nico asked.

“It's called Hadestown,” Isis said. “I saw an ad for it. They have an actress playing Persephone, Hermes, the titular husband,” she said.

“Oh,” Persephone said, her face falling. “Is it about... Nevermind. I know what it's about.”

Nico didn't have to think particularly hard to know what she meant. He'd seen more than a few paintings and statues titled 'The Rape of Persephone.' Every single one had seemed problematic and unsympathetic, considering she was a real person with feelings. Not that the artists knew that, necessarily, but it still irked him.

He'd never brought it up to her, and he was sure he never would, but it seemed like the kind of thing she wouldn't want to relive.

“It's about Orpheus,” Isis said.

“Oh!” Persephone brightened. “That's nice,” she said. “Maybe I'll get a few new prayers out of it?”

“Maybe. I could use some. You think they'd write me in?”

“I have no doubt there are many young witches who look up to you, just like always. Hecate tells me witchcraft in back in vogue lately.”

“Not nearly enough,” Isis said. “It hurts to feel like you're being forgotten, you know? I think about my cult all the time,” she said. “Sometimes I can't believe it's over. I'd give anything to feel that love again.”

“Me too,” Persephone said. “I dream of the mysteries and wake up crying in ecstasy. It's heartbreaking that it's over. Heartbreaking,” she sighed. “Anyway. Tell me everything you've been up to.”

She and Isis wound up talking for hours. Nico listened to them and scrolled through his phone, slipping easily back into the slow pace of immortal life that his companions shared. He figured that as long as he was with gods, monsters wouldn't come bothering him, so he might as well enjoy it. He did research on the various people and places Ganymede told him about in the museums to help contextualize the gossip he'd absorbed over the last few months. He was learning a lot by that method. The one place he was lacking a lot of information about was the place most important to him, the Underworld, but he could research that better on his own, anyway.

“Nico, dear, when are you coming home?” Persephone asked.

“Soon,” he said. “Just need to make some more progress on my list.”

“Okay. I miss you! Don't forget March 21st.”

“I won't. I miss you too,” he said, smiling.

“Do you want to say hi to your father?”

“Not really,” Nico said, but Persephone had already shoved Hades in front of the Iris message.

“I heard that,” Hades said.

“Sorry,” Nico said, even though he wasn't.

“Quit playing around and get back to work,” Hades said, his signature glower looking extra creepy through the iridescent Iris sheen. “I won't allow you to see Ganymede anymore if he's a distraction.”

“I'm very helpful,” Ganymede chimed in, but Hades had already hung up.

“He's a real treat,” Isis said, lying back on her arms. “I missed Persephone. I'm glad we caught up.”

“I meant to ask her what she was talking about when she mentioned the Gram,” Nico said. “I don't have social media.”

Ganymede grinned bashfully.

“She meant Godstagram,” Ariadne said, speaking through a mouthful of grapes. She'd been sound asleep for half the picnic after too many spritzes, but she was awake now.

“Godstagram?” Nico said.

“It's exactly what it sounds like,” Ganymede said. “You've been tagged on it a couple of times. I forgot you don't have the app.”

“You've been posting me?” Nico said, alarmed.

“Not me. Gossip Goddess,” Ganymede said.

“And who is that?” Nico said. “Why do they have my photo?”

“Nobody knows,” Ganymede shrugged. “Everybody thinks it's me, but if you look at the photos, you can tell I didn't take them. I'd never post my bad side. Here, I'll give you the app. You can view as a guest, but I can't give you a profile since you're just a demigod.”

“I just want to see how bad it is,” Nico said. “I don't like the idea of pictures of me floating around that I don't know about.”

“You're just like your dad,” Ariadne said. “He once vaporized a nymph who took a Snapchat where you could see part of his shadow off to one side.”

Nico's first appearance on Godstagram was easy to miss. Someone had taken a picture of him talking to Ariadne in the bar in Termini. You could only see the back of his head, and the light was focused on her.

“Ariadne looking radiant in a wine-dark gown in Termini. What is she talking about to make her look so sad?” Read the caption.

She'd been talking about her father. Ganymede's arm was partly in the photo, and Nico observed that, indeed, he couldn't have taken it. He'd been mixing complicated cocktails at the time.

In the comments, Dionysus had written, “Talking about me, I'm sure. That better not be your new man!!!”

“That's my new friend Nico,” she said. “I'd never replace you, baby. You're my Mr. D!” She'd written a bunch of laughing emojis.

“Nico di Angelo?” Dionysus had written. She hadn't responded. He'd followed up with, “That's Mr. Big D to you.”

“Oh, that's not a big deal,” Nico said. “You can't see my face. I'm surprised Dionysus remembers me.”

“Sons of Hades are unheard of,” Ganymede said. “I'm sure you stood out to him.”

“I didn't realize he knew,” Nico said. “I left camp and went straight to the Underworld. I guess Percy told him.”

“No, I did,” Ariadne said. “He said he hadn't heard.”

“Huh,” was all Nico responded. So Percy had tried to protect him. Interesting.

He scrolled through Godstagram, but nothing jumped out at him. Well, there were a lot of dick pics, most of them posted by Ganymede, but he chose to ignore them, because he had a feeling Ganymede was waiting for him to comment on them specifically, and he didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

“Huh,” he said. “Pretty boring.” He smirked a little at seeing Ganymede's ego shrink slightly. “Di immortales,” he said suddenly, staring at his phone screen.

“Which one are you looking at?” Ganymede said, leaning over. “Oh. That's just a calendar. I thought it was my--”

“March 21st is next week!” Nico said. “I've been in Italy for six months!”

And Bianca had been dead for almost three years. Nico needed to get his shit together. No more playing around.

Chapter Text

On March 20th Persephone Iris messaged Nico and told him to meet her at dawn in a particular spot in Greece, not close to any major towns or cities. He shadow traveled to what appeared to be a cave entrance in the middle of nowhere, sat on a rock, and waited.

There was a chill in the air that seemed concentrated near the mouth of the cave. It was clearly an entrance to the underworld, but it looked normal and unassuming until you realized that a feeling of dread was emanating from the entrance.

He breathed it in and immediately felt tension leave his body. There was nothing to worry about, nothing to fear. The fields were there, waiting for him, cool and quiet and dark. It felt like home.

He heard a sound like the rustling of leaves, and a woman materialized next to him. She looked middle aged, with a rounded face and figure. She was very tan and freckled, and smelled like fresh bread.

He guessed who she was immediately, but all doubt left his mind when the wind blew and tiny flecks of grain flew out of her dark blonde hair. Part of her hair was pinned up on the top of her head, but most of it flowed down her back in long waves, shimmering like a field of wheat in the breeze.

Should he say something? He felt like she was waiting for him to speak, but he wasn't sure if that meant he should.

“Seems common courtesy is no longer common,” she said, glaring at him. Crap. He should have said something. “You're just like your father,” she muttered. “Rude. Unpleasant. Stand up straight, for goodness sake!”

He stood up straighter reflexively, but he scowled.

“I'm not just like him,” Nico said. “I'm sorry, goddess, but I wasn't intentionally trying to be rude to you. I just didn't know what to say.”

“Oh, hush,” she said. “I've no idea what she sees in you, but no matter. Nicky, was it?”

“Nico.”

“Well, Nicky, you had better repay my daughter's gift with your eternal devotion, because I don't think she should have bothered. I told her so, too.”

“She has my eternal devotion,” he said. “I don't know that I can repay her with anything else, but if I can, I'll try.”

“We'll see about that,” Demeter said. “There she is!”

“Mama!” Persephone bounded out of the cave and embraced Demeter. Flowers blossomed all around them, and the air grew warmer, sweeter, and fresher. Persephone and Demeter both glowed with power, and Nico looked away just in case their true forms might be revealed. Nothing like that seemed to happen, fortunately.

“I missed you,” Persephone said. Her hair was studded with daisies, and her eyes sparkled with a bright light that Nico had never seen before. “Oh, you met Nico! Hi, Nico, dear,” she said, kissing his cheek. “Thanks for coming.”

“Of course,” he said. “Don't thank me, it's the least I could do.”

She patted his hair and threaded her arm through her mother's.

“We have lots of work ahead of us,” Demeter said, looking at her daughter adoringly. “You've been well the last six months?”

“Very well,” she said, glancing at Nico. “Lots of exciting changes, you know. Change is the most fantastic thing. I'll never tire of it.”

“Well, we ought to go,” Demeter said.

“Look after your father,” Persephone told Nico. “Distract him. He's very mopey. I know he can be difficult, but don't let him get too stuck in his rut, okay?”

“I'll try my best,” Nico said.

She and her mother disappeared in a flurry of petals, and Nico smiled. He felt like he'd witnessed something very special. Persephone stepping back out onto the earth felt like every living thing in the vicinity let out a sigh of relief, as though death's inevitable encroachment had briefly paused, a reprieve. For a little while, birth would outpace death. It was a wonderful moment to behold.

Still, Nico was happy enough to march down into the darkness. Bianca was down there still, and she needed him. Also he was supposed to talk to his dad. He didn't feel so encouraged by that, but he was going to do it anyway.

The passage led down to a riverbank, the familiar black watered Styx. He saw Charon waiting with his boat. He was a hunched figure, horribly tall and bent, in a tattered black robe with screaming faces peering out from the folds. His face was in shadow beneath a wide brimmed hat, and his fingers were all that were visible of his body. They looked like skeletal hands covered in bits of rotting flesh, and he smelled like death, too, a sickeningly sweet garbage smell. It was more interesting to Nico than gross, perhaps because he wasn't sensitive to it. Decay wasn't something you encountered in the underworld proper, because it was in fact a living process. Bacteria, fungi, even bugs, all played a part in breaking down flesh, and they were all living things that had no place in the underworld. All of the dead he'd seen were either shades with no true physical form at all, or skeletons who'd been buried beneath the earth and were reclaimed by the underworld. They typically had no remaining soul attached, their shade departed elsewhere, and were reanimated solely by magic. Nico could intuit this, but he didn't really understand how it worked.

If Charon was decaying, it was an appropriate representation of the process of transitioning between life and death. Nico appreciated that about the underworld, that everything always made sense.

“Charon?” Nico asked. He'd seen him around, but he'd never spoken to him before. “Could you please give me a ride back to the palace? Here,” he said, digging a Euro coin out of his pocket.

Charon shook his head, refusing the coin, then gestured to let Nico into the boat.

“Thanks,” he said, appreciative of the free ride. “I know my dad put me on the no-ride list,” Nico said. “I guess that doesn't apply when I'm not dead yet, right?”

Charon made a slight movement that he decided was a yes.

Nico was comfortable with silence, which made Charon a good companion. After the bustle of Rome he was ready for the deafening quiet of the underworld. The roaring waters of the Styx were all the sound he needed.

He looked down into the water, seeing deep darkness and the suggestion of faces and figures in the river below. He wondered what dead souls thought when they saw it, not knowing where they were going or what it was like. What had Bianca thought? How had she felt? He hadn't even had the chance to ask her, after so many months. Anger flared in his chest, but he tried to ignore it. He'd see her again. He'd make her talk to him.

The boat wound down the river slowly. The journey was interesting; Nico saw areas he'd never seen before that he was interested in exploring later. When they arrived at the hall of judgement, he was sad it was over.

The moment he stepped out of the boat, Cerberos bounded up to the edge of the water, rocking the boat sideways. Nico panicked and briefly saw mental images of massive white teeth tearing his flesh apart, but Cerberos stopped and sat down, wagging his tails and cocking his monstrous head to one side.

Nico stared at the middle head, then the right and left in turn. They all had their ears floppy, tongues hanging out innocently-- the left one looked a little mischievous, but it always looked like that.

Tentatively, he reached a hand out, not to touch, but to see if the beast would growl at him. To his surprise, Cerberos shoved a massive head beneath his hand and forced Nico to pet him.

Delighted, Nico scratched him behind all six ears in turn, and Cerberos panted and whined happily.

“Are we friends now?” Nico asked him. Cerberos spun in a circle, making him laugh. “You're a big sweetie, aren't you,” Nico said, hopping out of the boat and hugging Cerberos around the middle. Cerberos licked his hair, leaving it coated in disgusting slime, but he thought it was worth it to win over such a dangerous creature's affection.

He heard the sound of an incorporeal throat clearing and looked up. Minos was standing before them with an amused look on his face.

“That's quite a friend you've made there,” he said. “He's given you an interesting hairstyle.”

“Can you believe it? He's being so nice. His slobber is really gross, though.”

“Here,” Minos said, hastily grabbing the edge of his long draped garment. “I can clean it up a little, if you want.”

Nico nodded, and Minos used the corner of his tunic to wipe dog slobber off his face. For a moment, it was funny. Then Nico glanced down and saw a sliver of olive skin revealed by the disturbed folds of the tunic. Minos' hairy, muscular thigh brushed close to his own. Though it was quickly hidden again, when Nico looked at Minos after he stepped away, it was with a slightly different perspective.

“You were gone for a long time,” Minos said. “How was your journey?”

“Good,” Nico said. “I met Ariadne.”

Minos' face became dark.

“Right,” he said. “Um, sorry for holding you up. I should let you go to your father. Excuse me.”

He scurried off before Nico could say anything. He felt bad; Ariadne wasn't spreading terrible stories, only what everyone already knew. And she'd asked about him, which was what Nico was going to tell him.

Nico continued on to see his father. He wove through Asphodel on the way to the looming black palace in the distance, Cerberos bounding behind him. His eyes began weaving back and forth across the presented mass of shades, searching for Bianca once more. He knew it was fruitless, but he didn't care. Of course, she wasn't there, and he entered the tall black columned palace and padded through to his father's audience hall. Hades wasn't there, so Nico continued to his father's bedroom.

He found it easily, sensing Hades' divine power following it to the source. The room was pitch dark, and he could see nothing besides a tiny shaft of light from the doorway that fell onto the bed.

“Hi, father,” Nico said, hovering in the threshold uncomfortably. Hades was lying in bed with an arm thrown over his face.

“What are you doing here?” Hades snapped. “Get out!”

“Persephone asked me to come,” he said quickly.

Hades sat up, peering at Nico suspiciously.

“Why?”

“She said you get depressed when she's not here and I should come annoy you with mortal business to take your mind off of her leaving.”

“I am a god, boy,” Hades snarled. “I don't get depressed.”

“I was just quoting her.”

“Yes, well,” Hades mumbled. “Still.”

Nico thought to himself a moment.

“Also, everyone already knows the gods have all the same emotions as humans. It's really obvious.”

“I was being hyperbolic,” Hades corrected him. “I meant I don't get depressed over something as routine as my wife leaving for Spring. I have far more pressing problems to deal with than that.”

“Like what?”

Hades pursed his lips and clearly drew a blank.

“Like you,” he said. “Taking so long on those chores.”

“Nyx asked you for the hippocampus tail in 1437,” Nico said. “I've had the list six months. Suddenly I'm the problem?”

“Oh, be quiet,” Hades said, “You aren't even trying. You've been eating gelato and having a grand old time. Don't think I don't look at your expenses. That ten thousand Euro withdrawal had better have a good reason.”

“I had to pay someone to steal the martyr bones for me. Also, I figured you'd turn the card off if you didn't approve.”

“Quite right. I ought to.”

“I didn't think the god of wealth would be such a miser.”

“I'm not the god of charity,” Hades scoffed. “What were you doing in Rome, anyway?”

“A lot of things,” Nico said.

“Has it changed much?” Hades asked.

“Since 1935?” Nico asked. “I wouldn't know. I didn't know it all that well to begin with.”

Hades nodded, his eyes looking sad and far away.

“I'll know Venice better when I make it back there,” Nico said. “Mom still has family in the city. But I wouldn't have anything to say to them. The only ones who might remember me are in their eighties. I'd never be able to explain why I'm not as old as them.”

“She was very close with them,” Hades said. “I'm sure they took her loss hard.”

Nico remembered the aftermath of the explosion in DC, of his father clutching him and Bianca to his chest protectively, screaming Maria's name. He'd set them down and carefully pulled apart the rubble, locating her body and lifting her out of the debris like she was made of glass. There had been blood all over her face. When Nico saw that, he'd started screaming and Bianca had put her arms around him, protecting him as their father had.

Hades had cradled Maria's lifeless form and sobbed for a long time before he'd summoned Alecto to take Nico and Bianca away to the Lethe.

Nico looked at his father and realized they were thinking of the same thing.

Hades cleared his throat and looked away.

“You might tell them you're her great-grandson or something.”

Nico hadn't thought of that. The idea of showing up on his relatives' doorstep and announcing himself chilled him to the bone.

“Eh. They probably wouldn't like me anyways,” he said.

“Probably not.”

Nico sighed, exasperated by his father's bluntness.

“Some things haven't changed,” he said, folding his arms and leaning against the doorway. “The Pantheon is the same. Do you remember when you took me there?”

“Of course,” Hades said. “It had fallen into some disrepair since it was built, but it wasn't as bad off as most of the city. I always thought it was impressive for a mortal construction. Though the architect was a son of Athena, naturally.”

“I'd been calling it the Agrippa in my head. That word always stuck in my mind and I never knew where it came from. I learned who he was when I went to see it again.”

“I had wondered what you meant,” Hades said. “You used to say 'Agrippa' at random sometimes. Your mother took it to be an indication that you would grow up to be a classical scholar one day.”

Nico snorted.

“Well, for the amount of time I've spent reading about ancient history online these days, maybe I should go ahead and get credentials.”

“What is it you are reading about?” Hades asked him.

“Just research for my errands,” he said. “It's not like I knew what a hippocampus was when you gave me the list.”

“You could have asked,” Hades said.

“Yeah, right. You'd just say you were too busy.”

Hades grumbled something to himself. Nico understood his father was feeling particularly lonely at the moment, but it didn't get him off the hook for being a jerk most other times.

“Nevermind,” Hades said, throwing his arm back over his eyes. “You're dimissed. I'm obviously unpleasant company for you, so no need to take pity on me any longer. Go play on your telephone or whatever it is you do.”

“Fine,” Nico said, frustrated. “At least I can tell Persephone I tried,” he shot back over his shoulder.

He stormed off to his bedroom and put up a wall of shadow across the doorway so he wouldn't be bothered. His father was such an ass, he thought to himself. He was trying to help, and they'd come so close to a half-decent conversation. He flopped down in his bed and stared at the ceiling. He didn't need Hades to like him, he reminded himself. He'd done as Persephone asked, that was all, and if he'd failed it was Hades' own fault.

He stewed over his resentment for a while, thinking of every terrible thing Hades had ever said to him at least twice, and rehearsing what he ought to have said in the moment to teach him a lesson.

“Nico?” Minos called out at his door.

“What do you want,” Nico said angrily.

“Not you too,” Minos sighed. “Nico, sorry to bother you if you're indisposed, but it's an emergency. Cerberus just bit Alecto's arm off.”

“What?” Nico sat up. “What did she do?”

“Stepped on his tail. They're at each other's throats and he won't stop barking bloody murder. Your father won't leave his room, and you're the person Cerberus likes next best.”

Nico lowered the shadow door.

“You and Hades are exactly alike,” Minos said, watching Nico get out of bed and put his shoes on. “He was lying around in the dark, too.”

“I don't want to hear about it,” Nico said. “Let's just go.”

While they ran over to Cerberus, finding him easily thanks to his loud barking and Alecto's hideous screams of rage, Nico tried not to feel stupid. He thought his father was embarrassing the way he moped about, and then he went and did the same thing. It was more humiliating being called out than he liked to admit. At least he was a teenager, he reminded himself. He could always use that as an excuse.

Cerberus was barking out of two heads, making a bone-chilling sound only slightly quieter than his full, three-headed yowl that made your skull ring with resounding, echoing horror. His third head was busy gnawing on an arm.

Alecto was lashing her whip at him, but Cerberus dodged it easily, shadow traveling back and forth to miss each lash. The two of them appeared locked in combat seriously, and it was an unsettling sight, Alecto with pointed teeth bared and bloody eyes gleaming with rage, Cerberus... Wagging his tail?

“Oh,” Nico panted. “I think he's just playing.”

“There's no way he's playing,” Minos said. “He ripped her arm off!”

“But his ears are up like he's playing. Let me talk to him.” Nico ran over to Cerberus.

“Cerby, here boy,” he said, whistling. Cerberus turned to face him, quirking his head to one side. “See, it's me, your friend,” Nico said. He snapped his fingers, summoning a skeleton from the ground, and unceremoniously grabbed the skeletons arm. He braced one of his combat booted feet on the ribcage and yanked the arm out of its socket.

“Cerby, fetch,” Nico shouted, throwing the arm.

Cerberus bolted after the bones, barking riotously.

“My arm!” Alecto said, turning to Nico in a rage. Her stump was bleeding golden ichor and dripping everywhere. “How am I supposed to get it back now?”

“I'll just play with him a while until he gets tired out,” Nico said. “He'll have to drop it eventually.”

“It's going to be covered in slobber,” she insisted.

“That ship has probably sailed,” Minos said, smirking. “Guess you'll be a one-armed fury from now on.”

“Here,” Nico said, yanking the other arm off the skeleton. “Can you use this in the meantime?”

Alecto looked at the skeleton arm with distaste.

“I don't even know where this thing has been,” she said, but she took it and jammed it into her socket. It began to work without delay, and she flexed her hand.

“Might hurt more hitting people with bone instead of flesh,” Minos suggested.

She frowned.

“We shall see,” she said, turning on her heel. “I'll test it out,” she said. “But in the meantime, Nico, I want that arm back within the next few hours or you'll hear from me about it.”

Nico and Minos looked at each other and shrugged.

“Guess I'll go play with him,” Nico said.

“Thanks for coming,” Minos said, waving as Nico ran off to find Cerberus.

It was easy to get the arm. Nico threw three skeletal limb bones at once and Cerberus dropped the Fury's arm to pick up the new one. The two of them ran around for almost an hour, Nico shadow traveling some distance, throwing bones, and Cerberus shadow traveling to find them. By the time he got the last bone, Nico was already throwing another some ways off.

“Nico,” a low, cold voice resonated behind him. Nico spun around.

“Father,” he said. “How long have you been standing there?”

Hades shrugged, watching as Cerberos bounded up to Nico and nosed at his hand, dropping Alecto's arm at Nico's feet. Nico picked it up. It was gnawed up, peppered with teeth holes and slobbery, but Alecto's manicure was still intact, which was something.

He tucked it under his arm.

“He likes you,” Hades said. “I have never seen him take to anyone like that.”

“I just figured he liked all your children,” Nico said, scratching behind Cerberos' ear.

“You're only the second to meet him while living,” Hades said. “And he didn't care for Dante.”

“One of my siblings?” Nico asked.

Hades nodded.

“I wanted to speak with you,” he said. “I was harsh with you earlier. You were doing as my wife bid you, and you deserve to be praised for that, not barked at. I'm sorry.”

Nico's jaw dropped.

“You weren't even... You don't have to... Um,” he swallowed. “Wow. I didn't think gods like you apologized. Like, ever. I'm shocked.”

“I pride myself on being morally superior to my siblings and their offspring,” Hades said.

“I already knew that you were,” Nico said. “But thank you.”

Hades nodded, satisfied. He waved a hand, and Alecto's arm disappeared, presumably going back to its owner. Then he whistled, and Cerberos bounded toward him. Hades gave him a few affectionate scratches and then beckoned for Nico to follow him.

“Since my beloved wife is away,” he said. “I thought you might like to visit your mother.”

Nico gasped, frozen still. It had never occurred to him that such a thing might be possible.

“You're... You're serious?”

Hades nodded.

“If you are up for it.”

“Yes!” Nico exclaimed. “Can we see Bianca too?”

“Bianca would have to consent to that,” Hades said. “I only offer because your mother won't mind.”

He was frustrated by the news about Bianca, but Nico knew when to shut up and be grateful. He followed as his father led him back toward the palace.

Chapter Text

“It's a long walk to get to Elysium,” Hades told him as they climbed the stairs up to the palace. “And I can't permit you to interact with her.”

“You can't?”

“You'll understand when we get there,” Hades said. “Trust me.”

Baffled by the statement, Nico followed Hades back to the palace and through to a staircase on the other side. The palace perched over Asphodel from above, glowering above the mediocre residents there and reminding them who was King of the dead. Behind his palace was silhoutted a grand white stairway to an array of green mountains studded with white columns.

“I'm having the stairs rebuilt,” Hades said as he began to climb. “They're drab.”

“Are you going to hang a banner saying 'congratulations' for the new residents?”

“I would if it weren't trite and in poor taste,” Hades said.

“And on the downward direction it can say, 'Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate.'”

Hades glanced down at Nico.

“You know where that's from, don't you?”

“L'inferno. Of course.”

“Are you familiar with it?”

“I read some of it in school,” Nico said. “I finished the rest on my own. I really enjoyed it. Even then I was way too interested in death for a little kid.”

“In that case,” Hades said with a slight smile. “I have someone else I'd like you to meet after you see your mother.”

Hades took him into the mist cloaked mountains that hovered behind his palace. Their steep hills were studded with gems and crystals that gave off light, all unnatural hues of blue and white and green. They were eerie, but not discomforting. Rivers flowed thick with mist and skeletal birds and animals darted about. Dark crystal flowers bloomed, glittering and blood red, in shaded nooks of stone.

“This place is so beautiful,” Nico said, running his hand over one of the crystal flowers.

“The gem flowers are my creations,” Hades said. “Persephone inspired me long ago.”

“I can definitely see her influence here,” Nico said.

Further in, he began to see shades populating Elysium. Some were swimming lazily in a wide river, with many more floating on tubes and reading or eating snacks. Groups of friends had spread out picnic blankets and were dining together. Nico could see ancient Greeks dancing, Romans reclining and talking politics, and for the most part people eating good food and spending time with their friends and family.

He looked around eagerly for a well-dressed Italian woman from the thirties, but he couldn't see her.

“I'll warn you when she's near,” Hades said.

They continued further up the mountain, and the scenery didn't really change. There were a few houses and buildings and doors that floated in the air on their own. Nico could hear people singing, watching TV, and having loud sex behind some of the doors if he listened closely.

“It's so different from Asphodel,” Nico said. “They're so awake.”

“They're more active, but their minds are at rest,” Hades said. “Or at peace, rather.” He paused outside a doorway. It was a magical door, not the first they'd passed, silent and unlabeled. “She's in here.”

Nico's heart immediately caught in his throat.

“My helm of darkness has kept us invisible until now,” Hades said. “I am going to keep it on. You must not speak to her.”

“Why not?” Nico asked. “Won't she remember me?”

“Of course she will,” Hades said. “But if she greets you now, she will also have to say goodbye. It is antithetical to the nature of this place for her to feel the pain of parting from anyone again, especially her child. If you ever wish to greet her again, it must only be as a companion to her eternally.”

“That could happen someday,” Nico said. “Right? Isn't that possible?”

Hades nodded.

“If you play your cards right,” he said. “Do your chores, et cetera.”

“So I can only look at her for right now? Fine,” Nico said. “I'll take it.”

Hades gestured for Nico to open the door.

It was a department store, a very fancy one, with a huge display of elegant dresses. Three women were going through each rack, one by one, talking loudly amongst themselves.

The one nearest to him, Nico recognized.

“Nonna Lola?” He said. She didn't look up. The second woman was his Zia Patricia. And the third...

He stared in silence. His mother, the quietest of the three, held up a blue dress in fine velvet.

“What do you think?” She asked her mother and sister. They both exclaimed.

“That's so perfect, Maria,” Patricia said. “Picture that at a state banquet!”

“That color suits you,” Lola said. “Maybe with pearls?”

“Mamma, you always say it should be pearls,” Maria laughed, running her hand over the fabric.

“They're classic. They suit you,” Lola said.

Nico soaked in his mother's presence. She was stunningly beautiful, in the prime of her life, her hair pinned up in an elegant chignon, a small hat perched on her head with a little veil. She had a natural grace to her movements that was exactly as Nico remembered. Every tilt of her mouth and every glance was exquisite. He took a step toward her, but his father held him back.

“Stay beneath the helm's radius,” he said. But he stepped forward along with Nico so that he could get closer.

She even smelled like her old perfume. It was that smell that triggered Nico to start crying. It made it too real, and it finally sunk in that this wasn't an illusion or just an image of his mother, this was really her, and she was right here in front of him.

He started sobbing too hard to look at her anymore, and Hades took him to a bench against the wall of the clothing store. Nico slumped down onto it, but he took a few deep breaths and was alright again.

Hades sat beside him, and the two of them observed her silently.

“She looks really happy,” Nico said. Her contented expression never wavered as she looked at dress after dress, only interrupted when she laughed at her sister's jokes and chided her mother for things. Nico remembered his Nonna very little, only that she'd had a strong personality, and he listened as her daughters teased her, smiling at the obvious bond of love they shared.

“She was always close to her family,” Hades said. “No wonder she wanted to spend eternity with them.”

“Is this all she does? She doesn't get bored?”

“No. There is no boredom here,” Hades said. “Their experience of time is altered. Have you ever had the sort of day where you thought, if only every day could be just like this? That's typically the day they end up living eternally here.”

“So shopping with her mom and sister was what she felt like doing every day, forever,” Nico said. He watched as they moved on to purses.

“Later they'll move on to shoes, then hats,” Hades said. “They'll start trying on outfits. Some of them will be impractical, but she likes those the best. Always the fashion plate, Maria,” he said fondly. “And then they'll go out for coffee and talk endlessly about nothing. And then go shopping again.”

“That's it? For eternity?”

“Is that not enough?” Hades said.

Nico shook his head.

“If that's what she wants, then it's perfect,” he said. “Does she miss us?”

“Just listen to her for a while and you'll see.”

They sat and listened as the women chattered back and forth.

“Wouldn't this little pink coat suit Bianca?” Nonna Lola exclaimed, holding up a hot pink blazer.

“Oh, Mamma, stop it, she hates pink,” Maria laughed. “Maybe a nice blue or purple,” she suggested. “She has enough black already.”

“You always dress those children like they're going to a funeral,” Patricia said.

“It suits them,” Maria said. “They're quite serious like their father. I should look for a tie for him or something. Maybe later,” she shrugged.

“Where is that man of yours? We never see him,” Lola said.

“He took the kids out for gelato,” she said. “They'll be back later. Let me enjoy my break, would you? Motherhood can be tiring,” she said.

“That Nico is a handful,” Nonna said.

“Gee, thanks, Nonna,” Nico muttered.

“Nico is a darling,” Maria said. “He's my special one. I ought to get him a new coat, too. He's growing so fast.”

“She's shopping... For us,” Nico said.

“Of course she is,” Hades said. He was deliberately being gruff to hide that fact that he was moved, too, but Nico saw through it. “We should go,” he said. “I have other matters to attend to.”

Nico nodded. The conversation had moved on, and he'd seen all he needed to see. He followed Hades back outside.

“Thank you,” he said. “I knew she was okay, but seeing it... It really helps.”

“Good,” Hades said, shuffling a little awkwardly. “There is one more thing I thought I'd show you while we're here,” he said. “Unless perhaps you had other plans.”

“No, of course not,” Nico said. “Show me. I want to see what it is.” He secretly hoped he'd see Bianca after all, somehow, but he sensed she wasn't in Elysium. Still, he hoped.

Hades beckoned for Nico to follow him deeper into Elysium. They walked down into a valley that was densely populated by ancient Greek men.

“This is called the philosopher's grove,” Hades said. It was shaded with willow trees, and there was an agora where men were arguing and debating. Scrolls and books were being traded, and there was a library behind them.

“It says it's the library of Alexandria,” Nico read the sign on the front.

“Yes, after it burned down I ensured its preservation,” Hades said. “Come this way.”

He led Nico through the grove, the helm keeping them invisible.

“Is there a reason they can't see us?” Nico asked.

“I don't relish being bombarded with philosophical questions about death,” he said. “I find them tiresome and annoying. This realm existed long before I was tasked with its rule, and I daresay it will outlast me, somehow or another. Why they think I'm the expert I can't imagine.”

“Who is the expert, then?” Nico asked.

“Nyx, naturally,” he said. “And her children. Charon, Thanatos, the Fates, and so on. They were all working here when I started.”

“I still need to see her about the earrings,” Nico said. “I was going to wait until I had her ingredients. I haven't met Thanatos yet,” he added.

“He is very busy,” Hades said. “Here, this way,” he said, pulling aside a willow branch. Two men were sitting side by side on a riverbank, both of their feet dangling in the water. They were drinking wine from goblets that seemed to never empty, and they had a pile of books and scrolls stacked around them.

“But your line, forsan et haec olim meminisse iuvabit,” a man said. “What did you mean, truly, by iuvabit? Helpful, or joyful?”

“Ah, dear friend, we've been over this before,” the man next to him said.

“Humor me.”

“Well, the truth is--”

“Ahem,” Hades cleared his throat, removing his helm. The men turned around. One of them was a well dressed Roman man in a toga, wearing a crown of laurels, with a grey beard and a wide, pleasant face. The other man was in a familiar red hat and cloak, with an aquiline nose, a prominent chin, and small, dark eyes. Nico was sure he'd seen the man's face before, but he couldn't put a name to it until his father addressed him.

“Dante,” Hades said.

“Hello, lord father,” Dante said, inclining his head respectfully. “I'm honored by your visit.”

“Me as well, lord Pluto,” his Roman companion said. They both sort of tried to turn around, but neither took their feet out of the water or even set down their wine.

“Well, don't bother getting up on my account,” Hades frowned. “I was just coming to introduce my son, Nico di Angelo.” He gestured to Nico, who waved. “He's still alive,” Hades said. “He's only here for a visit.”

“Hi,” Nico said. “Are you seriously the actual Dante Aligheri? I'm a huge fan,” Nico said.

“That would be me,” Dante said, puffing up a bit. “Ahem, what year is it up in the world of the living?”

“Right now? It's 2022.”

“And they still study me?”

“Yes, of course,” Nico said. “I mean, I studied La Divina Commedia in the 1930's, but it hasn't changed. Every Italian knows your work. You're revered. It wasn't long ago, maybe a few weeks, that I was looking at your statue in Firenze. I don't know how to emphasize just how important you are to our language.”

“Just listen to him speak,” the Roman remarked. “I can hear your influence even now.”

“Where are you from?” Dante asked.

“Venezia.”

“Ah,” Dante said. “Well, brother, it's a pleasure to meet you. I relish every chance to interact with my fans, the more modern the better.”

“Yes, that's why I brought him,” Hades said. “He quoted you earlier and it occurred to me you might enjoy him.”

“He quoted me? I suppose I should not be surprised,” Dante said.

“I just made a joke about lasciate ogne speranze, you know,” Nico said. “I can quote more obscure stuff than that, though. I read l'Inferno very thoroughly. It never occurred to me that you were a son of Hades, but it makes complete sense,” he said.

“Certainly I couldn't reveal that in the text,” Dante said. “Imagine what the church of the time would have done to me. But I tried to enlighten the people of my time, and give a more gracious view of people from past eras,” he said, inclining his head to his friend.

“Of course, you're Virgil,” Nico said. “It's an honor. But, were you also a son of Hades?”

“Apollo,” he said.

“Gotcha,” Nico said. He turned back to his brother. “So, you came here when you were alive? And you met Virgil?”

“I did,” he said. “Father introduced us and I told him what a big fan I was. L'Inferno is loosely inspired by my explorations down here, as well as my Christian upbringing and some of my own unique imaginings.” When he said that, he got a weird look in his eyes, like he wasn't sharing all that he knew.

“That's so amazing,” Nico said, politely ignoring the weird look. “Have you written anything since you died?”

“No, not really,” Dante said. “Have you?” He asked Virgil, who shook his head.

“I've been meaning to,” Virgil said.

“For two thousand years?” Nico asked. Virgil shrugged.

“I'll get around to it one of these days,” he said. “When we finish our conversation.”

Nico glanced at his father, and they shared a look. That conversation would never end, he realized.

“It was really nice to meet you,” Nico said.

“You as well, young man,” Virgil said.

“Goodbye, brother,” Dante said. “Come and join us someday.”

“We'll see,” Hades said.

He and Hades descended Elysium and headed back to the palace.

“You didn't have much to say to Dante,” Nico said.

“Anything we've had to say to each other has been said,” Hades said. “He's been here 750 years.”

“Fair enough,” Nico said. “So, other than him, am I the only one of your kids to come down here while I was alive?”

“Yes,” Hades said.

“But we're so far apart in age,” he said. “What about the others? Wasn't there anyone in in the last 750 years who visited? I didn't find it hard to get down here,” he added. “I'm sure they wouldn't have.”

“You got down here because I let you,” Hades said. “And only because I thought you might kill yourself if I didn't.”

“Hmph,” Nico said.

“Thought yourself clever, did you?” Hades laughed his cold, bone chilling laugh. Nico rolled his eyes.

“So I guess Dante is never going to write anything again,” he said. “They'll just keep talking forever and ever. It's kind of sad, even if they do seem happy.”

“Without threat of impending doom, most people lose motivation,” Hades said. “The mere fact of death is the single greatest catalyst for life that exists.”

“I mean, why bother writing anything down if not to keep a piece of yourself alive in the world above?” Nico said. “Dante doesn't need to write a book to replace himself if he's just going to be here anyway.”

“Precisely,” Hades sighed.

“Unless...” Nico said. “His ego seems alive and well. What if you pitted them against each other? Made them write for a contest or something, to see who's the best dead poet?”

“A competition requiring a new piece of writing?” Hades said. “I've thought of that. It wouldn't work. I'd have to select a winner, and whoever lost would subsequently have a negative experience. That can't happen in Elysium.”

“But what if you didn't have to select a winner?” Nico said. “Just tell them you'll get around to it eventually and then never do it. They don't have a sense of time anyway.”

Hades blinked for a moment, deep in thought.

“Nico,” he said. “Your idea may have some merit to it.”

“Does it?”

“I believe it does,” Hades said, turning to him. “But I am too busy to implement it. Can you add this to your list? Not as a required chore,” he said. “But as a favor to me?”

Nico grinned widely.

“Any chance it might help me earn a spot in Elysium too?” He asked. “With mom?”

“You are growing too bold,” Hades said, scoffing at him. “I'm not one of the judges, in any case, so I could not tell you the answer to that. Do not overreach yourself,” he warned. Nico could see in his face that he was pleased, though.

If someone had told Nico a year ago that he'd be able to network his way into Elysium, he wouldn't have believed it. He'd always been a weird, annoying little kid, but somehow he felt he was not that at all anymore. As he walked with his father back to the palace, he wondered to himself quietly that Ganymede had been right. For a demigod, he was doing extremely well.

Chapter Text

His father went back to work without a word, and Nico was left alone in the palace, unsure of what to do with himself. He went back to his bedroom and arranged his things on his bookshelf.

He set Saint Catherine's toe and Saint Valentine's bone shards carefully on the top shelf, then he paused. He ducked into the dining room and grabbed a bowl of wine, bringing it back to his room. He quickly drank it, then set the empty bowl upside down on top of the bones. He didn't want Persephone wandering in to drop off gifts and seeing them. It couldn't be good for her to touch things that belonged to other pantheons.

Nico sat on his bed and laid down, thinking of what he'd seen. His mother's face was fresh in his mind again. She was only a brief walk away from him even now. And somewhere nearby, Bianca was there, too, although he didn't know where she was or why she wouldn't see him. Still, it was something.

He folded his arms behind his head. The room was dark and gloomy, lit by a single candle shoved inside a skull. The atmosphere was perfect. It was only missing one thing.

He picked up his phone and typed something into Spotify. It took some searching, but he found an old recording of an opera album his mother had often listened to when he was little. He pressed play and closed his eyes, content to reminisce about the old days.

Slowly, he drifted off to sleep.

He was in a small apartment living room. He looked around, but he didn't see anyone there. Something about it seemed familiar.

He walked around the living room, inspecting the pictures on the wall, and saw faces he recognized. There was a photo of Rosa and the man who must have been her late second husband, taken in front of the Acropolis. He had sunglasses and a large moustache, and Rosa was wearing a big floppy hat.

Another was beside it, a picture of a young Maria in her first communion dress standing beside a priest. That must have been taken back in Naples, before she'd moved to Greece, he realized. She looked happy in the photo, not as weighted down with worries as she'd seemed when he'd met her in person. There was another photo of her in a choir, standing in the front. It looked like she might have been a soloist.

There was no kitchen in the apartment. They must have lived upstairs from the restaurant and cooked in the kitchen down there. That made sense, then, that Rosa had no life outside of work.

Nico walked over to an open doorway. He could hear the shower running, and someone singing. He smiled and listened for a minute. Maria was singing an aria, and frankly, she was killing it. He'd never have guessed she was so talented.

He went into her bedroom and looked around. It was odd; he'd expected to find pictures of her dad in her room, but she didn't have any.

She had stuffed animals on her bed, and her room was a mess. What a weird dream, he thought. It felt so real.

A door opened, and Rosa came in.

“Maria!” She yelled at the bathroom door. “We're going to be late for mass!”

“Go without me,” Maria replied.

“Quit singing and get out,” Rosa shouted, banging on the door as hard as she could. They started shouting back and forth, which made Nico laugh. It was refreshing to be around normal people. He'd spent too much time with gods lately.

They were still arguing when he opened his eyes to darkness. He was back in his room in the Underworld, where all was still and deafeningly silent.

He yawned and sat up, turning on his phone and checking the time.

He'd been asleep for two days.

How was that possible, he wondered. Time was so weird in the Underworld. His candle hadn't even burned down, and it wasn't a magic candle, or at least, he didn't think so.

He went out and peeked into his father's office. Hades was still sitting and working on his computer in the same place he'd been before.

Nico went back into the long black columned hallway and began to explore the palace, since it seemed overdue that he learn the layout of the place. He tiptoed into Hades' bedroom first, where he'd found him moping earlier. Now it was empty, and he could snoop among his things.

After lighting a few candles, Nico could see how miserable and depressing the room really was. There was a black single bed on a dais, carved from the same black stone that his own bed was made of, with a thin mattress and shiny black sheets tucked in neatly. There was a cabinet full of books and scrolls, and a TV, which he was surprised to see. Nico clicked the TV on. It was playing a Youtube compilation of dashcam footage from car accidents.

Wow, he thought. His dad was really not in a good place mentally. Although he inadvertently sat and watched it for about a half an hour, transfixed, so maybe he wasn't one to judge.

Nico headed to the room next door, which was much larger and nicer. It had big windows overlooking the misty glowing mountains of Elysium, and there were potted gems growing on the windowsill that gave the space a rare burst of color. The bed was king sized and had a modern mattress. It hadn't even been made yet, and Nico wondered if anyone came in here while Persephone was gone.

His dad clearly didn't, and Nico could see why. Persephone's clothes were strewn across the floor and on the bed, and she'd left hairpins, nail polishes, and jewelry all over the place. Hades probably wanted to avoid the constant reminders of how much he missed his disorganized, messy wife.

On the wall over the bed there was a giant mosaic of Persephone in the palace garden, gemstone flowers in her hair, holding a pomegranate. She looked very regal and beautiful. Hades wasn't depicted anywhere, but he probably preferred it that way.

Nico didn't go in that room beyond that one brief glance around, and he shut the door behind him. His dad would kill him if he was caught in there.

The next room over had the same large windows, but it appeared unused, with no coverings on the bed. There were pots of dead plants on the windowsill, but Nico couldn't find any signs of an occupant beyond that. It occurred to him that Persephone must have stayed there at one time. Who else would have tried to grow living plants in the realm of the dead?

He didn't linger long in that room, either. He knew when he was meddling in something that was none of his business.

He already knew that the dining room was beside the reception hall, but he hadn't yet checked on the door in the back of the dining room. To his surprise, there was a kitchen, blazing hot and smoky. There was a small wooden table where someone was sitting and eating a bowl of cereal.

A young man with white hair and golden eyes looked up at him. He was wearing a red chiton and matching cloak, which was carefully draped to avoid obstructing the wings on his back. His wing feathers looked fluffy and soft, and they were the same soft grey-purple of a mourning dove.

“Sup,” he said lazily. He took a slow bite of Cheerios and looked Nico over.

“Wait, let me guess,” Nico said, “Hypnos?”

“How did you know?” Hypnos said, surprised.

“You're wearing pajamas.”

Hypnos nodded, smiling.

“That I am,” he said. “That I am.” He appeared to lose interest in Nico after that, and Nico walked around the kitchen.

“Where did you get the cereal?” He asked.

“Summon a skeleton and tell them what you want. They make anything,” Hypnos said.

Nico snapped his fingers, and a skeleton crawled out of the ground.

“French fries,” he said.

In a matter of seconds there was plate of french fries on the table. Nico sat and pushed it in between him and Hypnos.

“And ketchup,” Nico added. The skeleton reached into a cabinet and handed Nico a small dish of ketchup.

Nico and Hypnos polished off the plate quickly, and it turned out that they'd been given the exact right amount of ketchup for the number of fries they'd had.

“So, you're the god of sleep?” Nico asked.

Hypnos nodded, folding his arms on the table and resting his head on them.

“What does that mean in terms of your day to day?”

“I sleep in my cave,” he said simply.

“You don't send people to sleep?”

“I'm supervising,” he said. “By sleeping.”

“Oh.”

“Gotta make sure it still works.”

“Right.”

“But I'm also starting to turn into your dad's errand boy, like everyone else around here,” he said. “I know you know how that is.”

“Oh, yes,” Nico said. “I got a chores list within five minutes of meeting him. It was horrible.”

“We all heard,” Hypnos said. “At least Persephone likes you. That makes half of your life easy. Shame you have to waste it down here working, though.”

Hypnos looked at him pityingly, which Nico appreciated.

“I had the weirdest dream a little while ago,” he said, feeling like Hypnos would be willing to hear out his weird dream story. He explained to Hypnos every detail he could remember of his dream about Maria and Rosa's apartment. Hypnos listened with his eyes closed, nodding at appropriate moments.

“You shouldn't be having dreams down here at all,” he said, which made Nico feel unsettled and more confused than ever. “I have no idea why you had that one. You said there were others?”

“One more like this, and while I was in the coma I dreamed about my childhood.”

“That was memory recovery after the Lethe,” Hypnos said. “Persephone mentioned that had happened. It wasn't supposed to. You're weird, kid.”

“But there's probably a good explanation, right?”

Hypnos shrugged.

“You can ask my son Morpheus,” he said. “Maybe he's messing with you, sending dreams?”

“Does he do that?”

“Nah,” Hypnos said. “Too much effort. He's pretty lazy. No clue where he gets that from.”

He set his head down on the table.

“Yeah, it's a real mystery,” Nico said, rolling his eyes. He'd have to add 'talk to Morpheus' to his to-do list.

He continued his explorations, and found the palace library, a circular Roman style room lit with large braziers with couches arranged in a circle ringing the room. There were shelves lining the walls stocked full of books and scrolls.

Nico had an idea. He summoned a skeleton with a finger snap.

“Bring me something that describes Morpheus. Specifically where he is.”

The skeleton grabbed a scroll and passed it to Nico. He unrolled it and squinted at the text. It was in Latin, and it mentioned a cave by the Lethe in the foothills of Elysium. He made a mental note to check in with him later.

The only room left was the bathroom, emphasis on bath. It was down a set of stairs and led to a full Roman bath area with multiple small pools of bubbling water that belched steam, and a large pool with water so cold ice had crusted on top of it. There was also a large, luxurious shower carved into the onyx stone of the wall, glittering in the darkness and calling Nico's name.

He took a shower just to try it out. Hot water poured out of a bronze replica of Cerberus' head, hitting him from three different angles. It felt like ambrosia in water form. There was a shelf full of soap and oils on a shelf inside, all of them smelling dark and rich and powerful. Nico washed his hair and zoned out for a while.

When he was done he summoned a skeleton to bring him fresh clothes and towels. While he waited on them to return, he sat on a stone bench and stared at the onyx wall for a minute. It wasn't mirrored, it was just shiny enough that he could make out his reflection like he was seeing himself through the shimmer of an Iris message.

He'd stayed in enough five star hotels to know when he had it pretty good. Life in the palace was nice. It was quiet, relaxing, and other than his father, the people were pretty okay.

He wondered whether Hades would let him and Bianca stay after he brought her back to life. Maybe they could both keep serving the realm and live out their mortal lives here. It was a short commute to Elysium to see their mother, and once they died they could just move in with her. You couldn't beat it for convenience.

He'd rather that than go back to Camp Half Blood. That was the place that had gotten her killed. It didn't make sense to resurrect her and then send her right back to be killed again.

Then he recalled that she was a Hunter of Artemis. Surely death would have ended that obligation, but suddenly he doubted. What if she didn't want to stay here with him?

That brought up more doubts. He didn't have a clue how to resurrect people to begin with. If he couldn't pull it off, he'd have to die in order to be with her. That wasn't a perfect solution either. It was unclear, but it seemed like she'd chosen to stay in Asphodel and then immediately had gone into hiding. He wouldn't go to Elysium without her, but he also wasn't willing to ditch eternity with his mom for a sister that was giving him the silent treatment. What if she kept hiding after he got to Asphodel? That was a real risk, too. He couldn't kill himself until he'd talked to her and straightened things out.

He was so baffled by it all. This wasn't normal. He had every right to see her shade, to talk to her and demand answers, and the infuriating thing was that she probably knew exactly how much pain she was causing him.

He was still left with two options. One, he resurrected her. Problem solved. Two, he spoke to her and they figured out a plan to be together for eternity. Then he could finish his chores, get off the no ride list, and die. Problem also solved.

He'd made little progress on option one. That left the second to work on. He'd need his father to summon her shade for him somehow.

Raising the dead was near to impossible, and yet at the moment it seemed easier than getting his dad to help him. That was a miserable thought.

As if he'd been summoned by Nico's resentful thoughts, Hades swept into the baths, his black robes flowing behind him like mist.

“What are you doing in here?” He asked Nico, narrowing his eyes and looking around for signs of mischief.

“I'm having an existential crisis.”

“Wrap it up,” Hades said. “I want you to read to me while I bathe.”

“Uh, pass?” Nico said.

“If you're going to continue imposing on my hospitality, you will do as you're told,” Hades demanded angrily. "Or you can find another palace to have your crises in."

“Alright, geez,” Nico muttered. "I'll read."

Hades snapped his fingers, and a scroll appeared in Nico's lap. It was a text on the Eleusinian Mysteries.

Nico was immediately intrigued by the topic, so he began reading in ancient Greek while his father soaked in one of his hot tubs. Nico was pretty sure the water was actively boiling, but maybe when you got to be thousands of years old you developed a tolerance for that kind of thing.

Hades still seemed tense, but slightly less so than usual. The baths were so beautiful and elaborate, maybe this was Hades' retreat where he went to unwind, Nico thought to himself.

He read until he got to what seemed like a natural stopping place, after the complex rites of the Mysteries had been explained in detail.

“What's all this orange stuff on the scroll?” Nico asked.

“Hypnos was eating Cheetos the last time he read for me,” Hades said. “You are marginally better at this than he is,” he said. “You didn't fall asleep, at least.”

That was probably as close as Hades was going to get to praise. Nico knew he ought to take advantage, but he wasn't great at talking to his dad about Bianca. Just thinking about it made his blood boil. Hades had been so cold and unfeeling when Nico had initially come to him for help. Years had passed since then, but to Nico it may as well have been five minutes ago. He'd never forgive him for his callousness and cruelty when he'd needed his dad the most.

“Well? Keep reading,” Hades said.

For a moment Nico's throat was choked with anger. He couldn't sit here and pretend things were okay when they weren't. What was he doing?

“Nico,” Hades said, turning around.

“I need to talk to her,” Nico said. He stifled the other things he wanted to say and waited for Hades response.

“You have your list,” Hades said. “I've nothing more to say on the subject.”

Nico wanted so badly to argue with him, to demand a clearer answer, and to throw a massive fit and yell and scream. Instead he decided to just keep reading. Making his dad mad wouldn't get him anywhere.

Maybe he was beginning to get a little wiser.

Chapter Text

Nico decided the best investment of his time was in researching methods to bring people out of the Underworld. He began a campaign to read everything he could on Orpheus in Hades' library. There were a lot of scrolls on Orphism, which covered a pretty diverse range of topics related to resurrection. Dionysus had brought his mother back, Orpheus had almost brought Euridice back, and Demeter had been able to get Persephone back for half of each year.

Those three notable cases were all very different in their particulars, but Nico was able to piece together one immutable fact; all of them seemed like they'd had Hades' permission. He was the King of the Underworld, and while some got in without permission, it didn't seem like any got out.

That was upsetting, but not shocking. It left him confused, though. Dionysus was Hades' nephew and Demeter his mother in law. It wasn't surprising that he'd make exceptions for them. But Orpheus? What had he done besides evoke pity in the king's heart? And why the hell hadn't that worked for Nico? Forget taking Bianca out of the Underworld. He didn't even have visitation rights.

Nico needed to speak to Orpheus, he realized after he'd read through most of the books on the subject. There was no point spending more time reading about him when he was a few minutes walk away.

Nico left the palace and headed downstairs, scanning the amorphous milling crowds of the dead in the fields of Asphodel as he descended. He saw no sign of Orpheus, even when he'd walked among them for a while searching thoroughly. First Bianca, now Orpheus. It seemed like nobody wanted to talk to him.

That wasn't exactly true, he realized, when he looked over at the judges' stand on the Styx side of the fields. Minos caught his eye and waved at him.

He shadow traveled over to the dais the judging table stood on. There was a long line of shades waiting to be judged, trailing off in a winding line of dim figures all the way back to the bone gravel beach where the fields met the Styx.

“Hi, Nico,” Minos said. “Your father keeping you busy?”

“Not really,” Nico said. “Do you have a second?”

“For you? Always,” Minos said, turning in his chair to give Nico his full attention.

Having Minos' attention on him suddenly made Nico feel nervous, although he wasn't sure why he should feel that way. Minos was just another shade. A particularly nice, handsome shade with really pretty eyes and long eyelashes and full lips. Not that Nico cared about stuff like that, he thought anxiously.

“I was looking for Orpheus,” he said. “Have you seen him?”

“He's in Elysium,” Minos said.

Nico raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“He defied the laws of death and he still got sent there?”

“As I recall, it was Persephone's intervention. She wanted him with his wife.”

Nico thought for a moment, feeling for Orpheus's presence, and he found he could feel it, distantly, in the Elysian mountains.

“Huh. I should have realized. I guess it just made no sense to me,” he said. “Sorry to bother you.”

“Don't be,” Minos said. “You're welcome to come by and chat anytime.”

“Maybe when we're less busy,” Aeacus said sternly. He was a sharp faced man who always looked suspicious, and he had Zeus's eyes of piercing blue. Nico had an instinctive dislike of him.

“Eh, we're always busy,” Minos said. “A few minutes won't hurt anything.”

“I thought Hades told you to leave the boy alone,” Aeacus continued.

“Ignore my brother,” Minos said suddenly, taking Nico by the shoulder and walking a few feet away to the riverbank. “Sorry. He can be a thorn in my side at times. He wanted to be made tiebreaker, you see. Never got over it.”

“My father told you to leave me alone? You're not bothering me,” he said.

“I'm glad to hear it,” Minos said. “If I am bothering you, you can say so. Hades thinks I'm a bad influence. And I do have a reputation. I don't blame him.”

“Whatever you did thousands of years ago has nothing to do with me,” Nico shrugged. He paused for a moment, listening to the rushing waters of the Styx at his back. “Speaking of which, I'm sorry I brought up Ariadne all of a sudden the other day, when I first got back,” Nico said. “I should have guessed it was a sensitive topic.”

“It is, but you can talk to me about anything,” Minos said firmly. “I wish to have no secrets from you.”

Nico stared at Minos curiously. The shade appeared sincere, his brows lowered and over-serious, his lips thin. It gave him an anxious look. What did a ghost have to be worried about?

“That's generous of you,” Nico said. “Ariadne only asked how you were, that's all.”

“What did you tell her?”

“That you seemed fine. I told her you'd been very nice to me.”

Minos' lips quirked up in a tight smile.

“She didn't believe me,” Nico said, scuffing his shoe in the gravel of the riverbank. He turned up bone shards, teeth, and a few wedding rings among the rocks. “She told me you were once a tyrant king mad with power. That you didn't care for anything but glory,” he said.

Minos made a face. If he was alive, Nico thought, he'd be blushing.

“I've got to admit,” Nico said. “I don't see it.”

“I like the way you see me,” Minos said.

He said it simply, but there was something intense behind the words that made Nico's heart beat faster. For a moment, they just looked at each other.

“Minos!” Aeacus called out. “We are waiting!”

“Let him flirt with the kid,” Rhadamanthys said, shushing him. “Maybe Nico will ask Lord Hades to get us a minifridge.”

That ruined the moment thoroughly. Minos blushed.

“Ignore him,” he said. “We don't need a minifridge. I mean, it would be nice, but... Just ignore him. He's a fool. Always has been,” he stammered.

“Don't worry about it,” Nico said. “I wish I had the pull with my dad to get people fridges. Um, I think I'd better go.”

“Right,” Minos said, stepping back and smiling at Nico fondly. “Well, you know where to find me, I suppose.”

Nico nodded, returned his smile awkwardly, and shadow traveled to Elysium.

“Eurgh,” he said, immediately cringing and hiding his face in his hands. “Why am I so awkward?”

“Pardon?” Someone said.

He looked up. Orpheus was staring at him. He was immediately recognizable, by the lyre he held on his lap. He was lounging under a tree made of pink quartz crystal, and had a spiky mullet of black hair and very large, sad green eyes. His eyes looked very familiar, but Nico couldn't say why.

“Orpheus,” Nico said, sitting next to him on the green lawn of what appeared to be Astroturf. “I wanted to ask you some questions.”

“Such as why are you so awkward? I'm afraid I don't know,” Orpheus said softly, strumming his lyre.

“No, that wasn't my question. I think I have a crush on a ghost. Don't tell anyone I said that,” Nico said. “Uh, let's change the subject.”

“What better subject than love, and the pain it causes us,” Orpheus murmured. “I could sing of that for centuries and never tire of it.”

“One, I never said anything about love, so let's not go there,” Nico said. “And two, I have a suggestion for another song topic.”

“Do you? I take requests,” Orpheus nodded. “Go ahead.”

“Detailed directions for the route you were taking out of the Underworld,” Nico said. “And any notable landmarks you remember would be great.”

Orpheus frowned.

“He doesn't do things like that,” said a voice from up in the crystal tree. Nico glanced up and saw a woman who must have been Eurydice looking down at him. She was sprawled across the branches like a leopard, and was peering out beneath a crown of green moss-like hair. “He changes the facts to make the poetry better. He can't help himself.”

“I don't like that,” Nico said. “It seems dishonest.”

“Poetry is the most honest thing there is, especially when it's not the truth,” Orpheus said. “My mother taught me that.”

“Remind me not to ask your mom for directions either,” Nico said. “Wait, I know your mom,” he said. “Calliope, right? You have her eyes. And Apollo was your father.”

Orpheus nodded.

“I met them not that long ago,” Nico said. “Your dad gave me a ride to Olympus. Calliope was with him.”

“What brought you to Olympus?” Orpheus asked.

Nico went ahead and told Orpheus and Eurydice everything, from Bianca's death to his chores list and his plans for getting her back. Eurydice joined them on the Astroturf, listening intently. She had a dusting of freckles across her face and shoulders and looked a little sunburnt, even as a shade. Nico didn't see what was so special about her, to warrant her resurrection, but maybe people would say that about Bianca, too. He didn't judge.

“The tunnel collapsed behind him,” Eurydice said. “It no longer exists.”

Nico sighed.

“Maybe that's why Persephone said it was impossible,” he said. “I don't suppose you know what exit Dionysus used?”

“I heard he flew out over the Styx,” Orpheus said. “If Cerberus and Charon do not molest you, and the waters don't claim you, and Hades allows, it could work. I walked on mortal feet, so it was not possible for me.”

“And if Hades didn't allow?”

Orpheus shrugged.

“How would life be restored?” Eurydice said. “Would you not just be summoning a shade to the surface by another method, without his help? She'd fade in time.”

“I don't know,” Nico said. “You guys make a lot of good points. I'm gonna be honest, I came up with this idea when I wasn't really in a rational frame of mind. I'm sort of backtracking to make it make sense.”

“My advice,” Eurydice said. “Give up. You will see her again in due time.”

“Not necessarily,” Nico said. “She's refusing to speak to me at the moment. I don't know why, but I'm worried she never will if I don't bring her back to life.”

“Typical man,” Eurydice said, rolling her eyes. “Thinking a grand gesture will solve everything.”

“Grand gestures ARE everything,” Orpheus said. “Yes, I failed to bring you back. But now we have a Broadway musical about us. Who's the real winner?”

“You know about that?” Nico asked.

“Theater kids drop by when they're making the rounds. Sondheim is the next tree over,” Eurydice said.

Nico thought about that for a moment. Grand gestures are everything. There was something to that, but he wasn't sure what it was.

“You've given me stuff to think about, at least,” he said. “Thank you.”

“Would you like to hear some music?” Orpheus offered.

“Yes, please.”

Nico sat around and listened to Orpheus play. Time seemed to flow differently when his ornate golden lyre played, at times speeding up and at times slowing down. Silk flower petals grew on the tree and fell as he played, the little plastic blades of grass shivered, and Eurydice stood up and danced with slow, graceful movements.

Orpheus wouldn't compose anything truly new, and she'd repeat the same dances forever, but that wasn't so bad. They seemed content.

Nico wondered what eternity with Bianca would look like. Would they be able to just relax and hang out like this? They had so many unvoiced hurts taking up space between them. Eurydice was right. He was trying to patch things up with a grand gesture. But was that so wrong? Actions spoke more than words, right?

Nico was in no rush to leave their company, but eventually he parted ways with them and walked over to the Philosopher's Grove. He walked around for a little while and just listened to the conversations around him. Bearded men in chitons and togas all looked the same to him, but he noticed there were modern philosophers there too.

He paused and listened to a young man in modern clothing lecture a crowd of ancient Greeks about artificial intelligence and the dangers of a hypothetical robot apocalypse. Some of their questions were very insightful in spite of their chronological differences. He could have sat and listened for ages, but after a little while he decided it was time to visit his brother.

He found Dante and Virgil by the river where he'd left them last time.

“Hello,” he said, sitting beside Dante, who seemed happy to see him.

“Hello, my young brother,” Dante said. “Back again so soon?”

“Just in time for my recitation,” Virgil said.

“Of what?”

“The Aeneid, of course,” Virgil said.

“Like, the whole thing?”

Virgil and Dante both laughed, and Nico realized there was nothing stopping them reciting over and over and over... He considered making a run for it.

“In a while, dear friend,” Dante said, surprising Nico. “My brother and I need to speak alone for a moment.”

Nico had no idea what to expect, but he was excited to follow Dante down a winding path, until they reached a large petrified oak tree. Dante jumped, grabbing one of the branches, and pulled himself up onto a broad, flat section of the branch. He reached down and yanked Nico up after him.

“I come here sometimes when I need a break from Virgil,” he said, as Nico looked around with appreciation. “I didn't want anyone to overhear us.”

Nico could see the river below on one side, and the branch was broad enough to lay down. When he looked up through the bare branches, mist was gathered overhead like clouds, and glowing gems glittered far overhead. If one wanted to, it would be easy to mistake them for distant stars.

“I think we have important matters to discuss,” Dante said.

“You're not like them,” Nico said, and Dante shook his head.

“Dead is dead,” he said. “But you are right, there is something different in me. More self-awareness. Little more than that. A gift from our father.”

Nico stared at his brother. There was very little resemblance between them, and in fact Dante looked kind of silly in his red hat, but there was a dark flicker behind his eyes that Nico recognized as a trait they shared.

“So,” Dante steepled his fingers. “Tell me of how you came to be here.”

Without hesitating, Nico launched into the story of why he was in the Underworld and his plan to resurrect Bianca. He was getting tired of telling the story over and over. At this point he needed to type up a newsletter and start stapling copies to the petrified trees.

Dante looked at him with understanding and empathy.

“Our journeys are... Alike in some ways,” he said, seeming to stumble over his words. That was weird for someone normally so eloquent, and Nico got the sense something was off about him. “Yet some parts are different. There is much I would ask you... but I should not,” he said, looking frustrated. “How to go about it? Brother, do you know for certain that Bianca is here?”

“Bianca? I can sense her here, just not her exact location,” Nico said, growing nervous. “Why? Where else would she be if she wasn't here?”

Dante shook his head. Nico's heart started to pound. He sensed Dante was holding something back that he desperately wanted to share.

“Dante, where is Beatrice?”

Dante shook his head again.

“Didn't you come here to follow her?” Nico asked. “You loved her more than anything. You didn't want to spend eternity with her? Or you couldn't? Would father not let you?”

“I could,” Dante said. “But in the end, I decided here was where I belonged. It made some people angry, but I have not regretted my choice. In truth, I did not know Beatrice well. It was the loving her that I really loved. And here I found a deeper connection. One I hadn't known before. L'amor che move il sole e l'altra stelle,” he said, beaming.

“Virgil,” Nico said, the truth dawning on him. “You're a couple! I love that for you,” he smiled.

“Not in the romantic sense,” Dante said. “We are two halves of one soul, I think. After the Aristotelian fashion.”

Nico wasn't sure he fully understood, and he was disappointed, because for a second there he'd really shipped them. But as long as they were happy, it didn't really matter.

“But if you chose to be here,” Nico asked. “Does that mean that you could have been somewhere--”

Nico was so stupid. He cut himself off mid-sentence as the truth dawned on him.

“Paradiso,” he said, his eyes as wide as saucers. He almost fell out of the tree, but Dante grabbed him before he could slip off the smooth branch.

“Don't speak of it aloud,” Dante hissed, grabbing his shoulders and steadying him. “Not here. Yes, I walked between two worlds in my life. I chose this one. I merely wondered if Bianca--”

“No, she would have come here,” Nico said. “She was a hunter of Artemis.”

Dante nodded his understanding, looking relieved.

“So the Commedia wasn't just based on the Underworld?” Nico asked.

“It was an effort to make sense of my experiences, and the many things I had seen which were beyond my understanding,” Dante said. “That work was never meant to describe a place I had been in reality, but a place that existed in my soul. Conflicting divine influences tormented me during the course of my life. I melded them into a beautiful whole.”

Nico could barely wrap his head around it. Other afterlifes... It made sense, but at the same time, it didn't make any sense at all.

“Dante!” A booming voice barked out.

“Coming, father!” Dante said, slipping out of the tree and dropping to his feet before Hades. Nico followed after him.

Hades flicked his eyes between them suspiciously.

“Virgil was becoming distressed at your absence,” he said. “You know I can't allow that.”

“No, of course not, forgive me,” Dante said. “I shall rectify it immediately.”

With one last glance at Nico, he hurred back to Virgil's side.

“What are you up to out here?” Hades said, his eyes boring deep into Nico's soul. He shuddered.

“I was telling him about the contest,” Nico said.

Hades clucked his tongue.

“Do not ever let me catch you playing favorites again,” he said sternly. “Dante does not get special treatment here. You can share the contest information with all the poets at once, or with none at all. No exceptions.”

“No exceptions,” Nico said. “Got it.”

Hades didn't seem to suspect anything else, and his posture softened back into its natural state of only medium-high tension. It made it impossible for Nico to relax around his father, because his moods were infectious.

Without another word, Hades held out his hand to Nico and shadow traveled him back to the palace.

“Come,” he said. “You can entertain me as I dine.”

“Entertain you?” Nico said, irritated. He yanked his hand away and took a step backward. “I'm not a very entertaining person. Don't let me waste your time,” he said, thinking of how he'd rather do anything else. He had way too much on his mind, and he'd say something he regretted, he was certain of it.

Hades bit the inside of his cheek, frowning deeply, his frown lines like veins in marble on his pale face.

“Let me rephrase that,” Hades sighed. “Come and dine with me. And speak to me. I think there is much we need to discuss.”

Nico hesitated for the space of a breath. His father looked at him, his expression inscrutable. Nico's response had been rude, and he'd actually responded nicely. Maybe there was a chance they could speak without arguing today.

“Okay,” Nico said, and followed his father to the dining room.

Chapter Text

Hades sat at the head of the long table and Nico took the seat to his right. The table was laden with tempting dishes. Nico's eyes lingered appreciatively on the glistening skin of a roast pig, bowls of soft cheeses, dishes of olive oil with herbs and crisp fresh baked bread. His mouth started watering. He was immediately glad he'd agreed to the dinner, because he realized painfully that he hadn't eaten in a while.

“I had the staff make some things special for you,” Hades said, gesturing at a covered platter in the center of the table. Nico lifted the lid and gasped. On the platter were dishes of pasta with clams, salt cod crostini, marinated sardines, and a large dish of tiramisu.

“I told the skeletons to find the best restaurant in Venice and copy the menu,” Hades said. “Is it to your liking?”

Nico had never been so excited for a meal in his entire life.

“Thank you,” he said, staring at his father in delighted surprise. “It looks amazing.”

Nico started grabbing plates and pulling them towards him, then he remembered his manners. He leaned over and carefully filled Hades' cup with wine first, followed by his own.

Hades' mouth twitched with the suggestion of a smile. He said nothing.

Formalities over with, Nico ignored his dad and starting eating like he'd never eaten before. All the dishes that had been made for him were excellent, and the Venetian ones really did taste like they'd come from a top tier restaurant. Everything that passed his lips was almost as good as ambrosia.

“How did you get skeletons to be such good cooks?” Nico asked, breaking the silence only after he'd tried a little of everything.

“Families used to offer up food and drink to their departed ancestors,” Hades said. “They still do, occasionally. The dead can develop highly refined palates as a result. When the offerings are made on the surface, near identical care packages are delivered to the shades. It is crucial staff provide only the best in such cases. I have the shades of Julia Child and Marcus Gavius Apicius host cooking seminars for the staff regularly.”

“I have no clue who those people are,” Nico said.

“They were formerly popular chefs,” Hades said.

“Oh,” Nico said, starting his second course of trying everything on the table. “That's nice.”

He was distracted by food for a good while longer until Hades spoke again.

“The last time I had this cake-- what is it called again?”

“Tiramisu,” Nico said.

“Your grandmother had made it,” Hades continued, cutting himself another slice.

“Nonna Lola cooked for you?” Nico tried to picture his father sitting at his Nonna's formal dining table, patiently waiting to be served cake and coffee like he was any other houseguest. Hades' aura was so oppressively dark that he found it hard to believe his Nonna wouldn't have denied him entry to the house, or at least called a priest for an exorcism while he was still on the soup course.

“I only met her once,” Hades said. “Her approval was a prerequisite of my courtship with your mother. I tried to get out of it, but family was everything to Maria.”

“Did you meet Nonno too?” Nico could only recall his grandfather vaguely. He'd been ambassador to the United States for most of Nico's childhood, and he'd been a busy, distant man, always in a formal pressed suit and tie no matter the occasion. One of Nico's most vivid memories regarding him was of being prodded with his cane and told to stand up straight. He'd also had a habit of reading the newspaper while smoking a cigar and subsequently falling asleep. His nonna had been scared he'd start a fire and would snatch the cigar out of his mouth and yell at him, and he'd start yelling back. Nico had laughed himself silly every time it happened.

“I never met him,” Hades said, “He refused to see me. He did not approve of the relationship, I was told.”

“I'm surprised Nonna approved of you,” Nico said, scooping up a second helping of tiramisu for himself. “She was really uptight.”

“Indeed. She did not trust me at first,” Hades said. “But when her daughter walked into her foyer wearing enough diamonds to buy Venice, she became acutely open minded.”

Nico snorted.

“That's funny,” he said. “Oh, Nonna.”

“Mortal minds are easily won,” Hades said.

“What did you tell Nonna you did for a living?”

“She never asked. She was not a foolish woman,” Hades said. “I believe she made an assumption that I was involved in organized crime.”

“That makes sense,” Nico said. “I was wondering something. How did she end up in Elysium? I remember her being really Catholic when I knew her.”

Hades tsked.

“I'm aware,” he said. “I do not know the details of her judgement. I would guess that being with her daughter was more important to her in the end.”

“How does that work with the other religions?” Nico pressed forward with his line of questioning, eager to learn as much as possible. “Do they have their own Underworlds, too? Can people just choose which one to go to?”

Nico had hoped he'd get more context to help him figure out what Dante had been trying to tell him, but Hades frowned.

“That subject is forbidden to speak of.”

“But--”

“It was a rule already made when I arrived here,” Hades added. “Do not test it.”

A shadow of doubt crept into Nico's mind that perhaps Hades was warning him in earnest. Maybe there were powers in the Underworld even he could not command. Nyx came to mind.

“Was that Nyx's rule?” Nico asked.

“I have no idea where it originated,” Hades said. “But she was the one to inform me. I made the mistake of bringing up a certain god I will not name-- A friend of mine from Egypt. I was told it was folly to speak of such things in this realm.”

It was so strange to think of Hades ever being new in town and making mistakes. He seemed to belong here, as though he and the Underworld were made of the same stuff. But that wasn't the case. Hades had been born on the surface, the same as all of his other siblings. He'd wanted Olympus for himself and been denied it, and he'd been sent to the Underworld to stew on his losses ever since.

Nico wondered what he'd been like during the Titan war, before circumstance made him bitter and distant. Was he close with his siblings? Was he happy?

“I have things to give to Nyx,” Nico said. The questions he really wondered about seemed too personal, and it was easier to stick to subjects he knew were safe. “Should I wait until I have the whole list, or just go and see her?”

“Meeting her for the first time can be disorienting,” Hades said. “It's best if I take you. Perhaps later.”

Nico nodded, stuffing his mouth with more pasta.

He ate in silence for a while, his father seeming to be lost in thought.

“This wine is from Bacchus's vineyard,” Nico observed, sipping some appreciatively.

“That's correct,” Hades said. “How did you know that?”

“I was there when I was in Italy,” Nico said. “Ariadne let me stay over for a while. She's really nice.”

“I don't know her well,” Hades said. “But Bacchus is a good sort. Not like the rest of his family.”

Nico laughed to himself.

“What are you laughing for?”

“You're his family,” Nico said.

Hades rolled his eyes.

“I'm sure I would be far more pleasant if grapevines were my charge, and not dead people,” Hades said gruffly, frowning. He tapped his pointed fingernails across the black marble tabletop in irritation.

“Fair enough,” Nico said. He glanced up at his father. Hades was being relatively decent at the moment. He might as well take advantage of it and ask some things he'd been wondering.

“How did you meet Mama?” He asked.

“Did you not get your memories back?” Hades frowned. “We told you that story many times when you were young.”

“Was that the whole story? I thought there would be more to it with the whole god thing.”

Hades shook his head.

“We really did simply bump into each other at the opera,” he said. “I was going up the stairs, she was coming down, and she bumped into my shoulder. I turned and told her quite sternly to watch where she was going, and she gave me a look of reproach that could have killed me where I stood, had she but the power to follow through on it.”

Nico smiled widely.

“That's the part I like about the story,” he said.

“I'm aware,” Hades said. “After the opera ended I offered to take her out to apologize, et cetera,” he said. “You know the rest.”

“And was the opera really L'Orfeo?”

“Naturally. I don't go to the surface to see just any opera. It was Persephone's idea, actually. She enjoys the theater, although it was spring at the time and she couldn't join me. I only went because she'd wanted me to see it.”

Nico nodded, still smiling. As a child he'd laughed until his stomach had hurt every time Maria had recounted the story. His father was always so gloomy, and stern, but after hearing the tale he'd started imagining his Papa cowering in fear before his Mama's stern glance. The image had made him more approachable in Nico's eyes, although he couldn't remember ever being truly afraid of him.

“I need you to fetch something for me,” Hades said.

Nico's stomach dropped. Of course, he thought. Of course his father would ruin this, like he ruined everything else.

“Was that what this was all about?” He asked, all good humor leaving him in a rush. “I should have known,” he spat coldly.

“I need manticore venom,” Hades said without looking him in the eyes. He fiddled with the stem of his wine glass. “I can tell you where to find it.”

“No,” Nico said, glaring. “I'm not getting you any more stuff.”

“All demigods must serve the gods, and many do it for far less reward than you have known,” Hades said firmly. “I am only asking for one simple task to be completed.”

“I already have a list I'm working on,” Nico said, raising his voice in frustration. “You can't just add stuff on when I'm almost done. That's not fair!”

“If you wish to live in my realm and continue to read its books and talk to its denizens, you have to serve me. I know you spoke to Orpheus and Dante of your plans to resurrect Bianca. Did you think I would allow you to attempt to subvert my laws without any consequences?”

“You're the reason I have to,” Nico shouted angrily. “If you'd summoned Bianca for me when I asked, I wouldn't have to resurrect her in the first place.”

“If she wished to speak with you, she already would have,” Hades shouted back, slamming his hands on the tabletop. “As I said, it has nothing to do with me. Do not lay it at my feet.”

“Too late,” Nico shouted. “This is all your fault!”

“I won't dignify that with a response. You are being ridiculous,” Hades said, his voice resonating with power. “You are a demigod! Pursuing glory on the surface is the purpose of your existence. And if you do not do this, I will make it so that you never see your sister again!”

Nico knew when he'd been beaten. He just wished it didn't hurt so much.

Nico folded his arms and stared at the table, seething.

Hades huffed.

“I did not wish to threaten you with Bianca,” he said, his voice softening. “You were the one who drove me to it with your refusal to cooperate. I tried to ply you with pleasant things first.”

“I don't care about the stupid food, or your stupid reminiscing,” Nico said bitterly. “That means nothing to me. All I care about is getting Bianca back. And when I do, neither of us is ever going to speak to you again. I swear that on the Styx.”

Hades flinched.

“You will never get her back,” Hades said darkly. Nico could tell he'd actually scored points with that one, which felt good. “And even if you did, I could not possibly care less.”

“Whatever. You suck. I hate you,” Nico said.

“Go to your room!” Hades roared.

“Fine!” Nico shouted back. “Gladly!” He got up from the table in a huff, kicked his chair over, and stormed off to his bedroom, flopping down facefirst on the bed. His father was the worst. How could one person be so unbearable so consistently? He was even worse when he was trying to be nice about being a jerk.

He screamed into his pillow for a while, then threw it across the room, then tried to distract himself by scrolling through Godstagram on his phone. Ganymede's recent posts showed him having fun hanging out with cool people in cooler looking places. He and Isis had gone skydiving together. Nico would never have gone skydiving in a million years, but it would have been nice to be invited. He should have known he'd be forgotten quickly. Who was he to them but a passing amusement? He was just another demigod; short lived and replaceable. In short, he was a loser. He was nobody.

Nico rolled himself up in his Stygian silk sheet like a burrito, encasing himself in darkness. He thought about demigods and Camp Half-Blood. Was Hades right? Was it his purpose to throw himself at monsters until he died, hopefully in a blaze of glory? Was that all there was? After Bianca died, he'd lost what little interest he'd had in the lifestyle. It seemed like such a pointless waste of time. The dying part didn't bother him, but the rest of it had. Camp was corny and the kids there were mostly idiots. And Percy was there. Fuck that guy.

Nico scrolled and scrolled, tapping the imaginary dislike button on every single one of the gods' pictures where they looked happier than he was. “Dislike,” he muttered to himself. “Dislike. Super dislike.”

“Talking to yourself?” Hades asked, hovering in the doorway.

Nico poked his face out of his cocoon.

“Godstagram needs a dislike button,” he said.

“I agree,” Hades said. “Come. I'm taking you to Nyx.”

Nico unrolled himself and stood, pausing to scoop up Saint Valentine's bone fragments from under the wine bowl.

“Don't forget your earrings,” Hades said.

“I didn't,” Nico muttered. He had. He grabbed them from the shelf and tossed both them and the bones into the bowl.

Hades shadow traveled with him to a part of the Underworld Nico didn't recognize. It was a pitch black empty space, with no sense of up or down, and no solid ground beneath his feet. He felt like he was going to fall down into nothingness, and he gripped Hades' arm for support.

“You will not fall,” Hades said, nudging him to stand on his own. Nico's feet stayed steady when he put weight on them, but his stomach was doing flips.

He looked around, but he might as well have been blind. There was no light anywhere, just empty, yawning darkness. It made him think of outer space if there were no stars, or sun. Just darkness that went on into infinity.

“Lady Nyx,” Hades said, clearing his throat. “Forgive the intrusion. I have something for you. The Martyr bones you'd requested. Accept my apologies for the delay.”

“You brought Nico, I see,” Nyx said. Her presence was nonspecific; it seemed as though she were surrounding them, as if they were submerged in her being. Her voice was soft and comforting, like a black velvet blanket rubbing against the inside of his brain. Nico felt slightly more at ease.

“Yes, he fetched them on my behalf,” Hades said. “You know of him already?”

She hummed, a low vibrating sound.

“I suppose you know everything that goes on in the realm,” Hades answered his own question. “Go on, son, present them to her.”

Nico held out the bowl with both hands. He had no idea what direction to face, so he tried a couple of different angles before a pair of pale white hands reached out and took the bowl.

He raised his head. A very tall woman was standing before him with long black hair that floated weightlessly behind her head, making her seem even taller than she was. Her skin was pale, like marble in moonlight, with a comforting soft white glow emanating from it. Her eyes glinted like tiny golden suns, sparkling at him.

He gasped, staggering back a step. His father nudged him forward again, and he swallowed hard, trying to steady himself. The power emanating from her was intense on a scale he'd never experienced before. It was like if Zeus had become radioactive and then he'd eaten Hades for breakfast. The only reason Nico didn't truly start to cower in instinctive fear was because she was smiling at him with genuine fondness in her yellow eyes.

She tsked, twitching her fingers at the contents of the bowl and then putting her fingers to her lips.

“Something wrong?” Hades asked, his voice betraying his tension.

“Very,” she said, cocking her head to one side. “These fragments are normal human bones.”

“What? They're supposed to be Saint Valentine,” Nico said, a pit forming in his stomach. “I'm sure he was a martyr. I don't know what could have happened. Maybe a mix up at the church...”

She hummed, popping the bone shards into her mouth and crunching on them like potato chips. He tried to fight a rising sense of panic welling up in him.

“Fear not,” she said lightly, once she'd eaten each fragment of bone. “I do not fault you. Perhaps you did not know, but it is easily tested. Taste the slightest mote of dust from the bone of a martyr, and pleasure will briefly become pain, and pain, pleasure. The sensation is quite distinctive.”

“I'm really sorry,” Nico said.

“You certainly will be,” Hades grumbled. “My apologies for wasting your time, Nyx. The boy is hopelessly incompetent.”

“I doubt that,” she said, running a cold white hand over Nico's hair, making him shiver like icewater had dripped down his back. “He is young. He still needs your guidance and protection. You will try harder to help him, Hades. I do not wish to hear of another precious child of the Underworld dying young and needlessly.”

“That-- I-- Hmm,” Hades said. He spoke no more.

“And what's this?” Nyx said, fishing out the earrings on the end of her pinkie finger. “Sweet of you, but the sun god has blessed these, long ago. Do you know what that means?”

“No?”

“It means they will clash with my wardrobe,” she said.

“I figured,” Nico said. “Persephone recommended I ask you to bless them for me. But since I messed up the bones, I won't ask you for anything. I'm not that hopelessly incompetent,” he said, flashing a look at his father.

“Nonsense,” she smiled. “You're more likely to bring me what I need if you're well-prepared, no? I will take the blessing of Apollo,” she said, waving a hand and suspending the earrings in the air before him. The light from her eyes and skin provided the only illumination to see what she was doing. “And turn it inside out. The light is hidden in a cloak of darkness. And so shall you be.”

“Did you just--” Hades said.

“I did,” she said. “Here.”

The earrings now consisted of a single black gem suspended from each gold loop. She shook them, and they turned invisible. She shook them again, and they reappeared.

“Invisibility,” Nico said. “You're giving me invisibility earrings?”

“I am,” she said. “It can even hide you from immortals.”

“This is the same mechanism as my helm of darkness,” Hades said. “It is too much power in the hands of a demigod. Give them back, son.”

“Annabeth has an invisibility hat,” Nico said.

“Athena's daughter?” Hades asked disdainfully. “Keep them, then.”

Nyx reached out to pat Nico's head again fondly, and impulsively, he reached out and hugged her. She returned the hug warmly, enveloping him in a comforting dark embrace.

“You will be great,” She told Nico. “Make us all proud.”

“I'll try,” he said. “Thank you so much.”

Hades bid her goodbye and shadow traveled with Nico back to the throne room.

“That was unexpected,” he said, holding his hand out for the earrings, which Nico gave him. “Come here.”

“What are you-- Ahh!” Nico was seized by the ear and yanked. He felt a sudden stab of pain in his earlobe.

“Don't whine,” Hades said, grabbing his other ear and piercing that one too. “If you'd found real martyr bones, you might have been having fun right now.”

“Well, I'm not,” Nico said, gently prodding his ears and wincing. The weight of the earrings felt strange, and the pain was already fading.

“Ow,” he said, looking at his father accusingly.

“Shake your head quickly to the left,” Hades said.

Nico tried it.

Hades stared at him. His long white face grew taut with worry, and he chewed the inside of his mouth.

“I don't like this,” he said, turning around and pacing before his throne.

“It didn't work?”

“Oh, it worked,” Hades said, wringing his hands, still pacing. “I do not mind your hiding from mortals and monsters, but gods? Given that we are no longer at war, it seems egregious for someone of your status. Does Annabeth's hat hide her from the gods as well?”

“I don't know,” Nico said.

“See if you can find out,” Hades said. “And if you have the opportunity to do so unnoticed, destroy her hat.”

“Annabeth was nice to me,” Nico said with annoyance, shaking his head again and reappearing. “I don't want to mess up her stuff for no reason.”

“I told you to do it; that's reason enough,” Hades said firmly, also growing annoyed. “I didn't even want you having this power, but Nyx has overruled me. That does not change the fact that it irresponsible on the part of Athena to let her daughter flit about with the ability to deceive gods. It's one of one million other overreaches Olympus has attempted over the years, and it needs to be rectified.”

Nico was still unsure how he felt about it, but he agreed just to get his dad to quit talking about it. Annabeth could always just ask her mom for a replacement hat, after all.

“Fine. I'll do it,” he said.

“And be certain never to tell anyone outside of the Underworld that I defer to Nyx,” Hades said. “If it got back to Zeus, I'd never hear the end of it. He doesn't understand how things work down here.”

“This is her realm,” Nico said, understanding completely. “It always was. It's like she owns the company and you're the CEO.”

“Precisely,” Hades said. “You understand.”

“I won't tell anyone,” Nico said. “Don't worry about it. So, the manticore. Is this the same Doctor Thorn that attacked Bianca and I at Westover Hall?”

“I highly doubt the manticore felt compelled to return to work as a Vice Principal,” Hades scoffed. “After its reformation it should be significantly altered from the version you knew. Whether it will recall anything from your previous encounter, I cannot say.”

“Is it still in Bar Harbor?”

Hades nodded.

“What do you need the venom for?”

“Pain that does not damage flesh has many applications,” Hades said. “You never know when you may need to torture someone. Best to keep it in stock. You are familiar with the beast? You can handle this?”

“With these earrings, I'm not scared of anything anymore,” Nico said. He hadn't been eager to do this new chore earlier, but he wanted to try out his earrings more than he wanted to keep being stubborn. “Besides, I know enough.”

“Do you?”

“I know it's got three thousand attack power and plus five to saving throws,” he said.

To his surprise, Hades laughed.

“You and your little game. Go, now, and try to be a proper demigod for once,” he said, waving his hand in dismissal. Nico disappeared into shadow.

Chapter Text

He appeared on the grass of the soccer field of Westover Hall. Standing there in the moonlight, staring up at the imposing stone edifice that was his old school, he felt raw and exposed. Having a real sky above him was unsettling. How long had he been in the Underworld?

He checked his phone. It was late May. He'd gone below the earth on March 21st. Time had slipped away so quickly.

He looked up at the school for a while, and at the cliffs overlooking the ocean. This place had held his last memories with his sister before she'd met Artemis and decided to leave him forever. He felt a dark, choking bitterness rise up in his throat, and turned away. It was better if he didn't think about it. He'd get more done.

He stalked off into the forest, remaining visible, and thought about the manticore. It had human intelligence, so he doubted it would be content to live too far from human society. Maybe it still took human form sometimes, but he wasn't sure. The easiest method of finding it was to wander around Bar Harbor smelling like a tasty demigod snack. It would find him eventually, if he knew anything about monsters.

He wandered until the sun came up. The glare was so bright when the sun did eventually rise that he had to put his hood up, and he missed his sunglasses. His eyes needed time to get used to the surface. The sun was so obnoxious, just like Apollo, he thought resentfully. It burnt skin and gave people cancer. He couldn't imagine why anyone liked it.

He wasn't a big fan of the moon either. Nico laughed at himself a little, at the irony that if he lived long enough he'd probably grow to hate everything in existence, at the rate he was going. Maybe that was what had happened to his dad to make him so miserable to be around.

After he'd stalked and stomped around for nearly the entire day, Nico had the disturbing revelation that he was terrible at being a demigod. There was no denying that Percy Jackson and Co. would have already found and dispatched the manticore by now, or died trying. He'd found no trace of it.

Frustrated, tired, and losing focus, he climbed over a log and tripped in a hole, ripping his shirt on a thornbush in the process. He brushed himself off and staggered to his feet.

He'd fallen into a shallow pit, and there was a manticore in it.

The massive body of the leonine beast lay in front of him, snoring, its furry sides rising and falling with its breath. It smelled disgusting, like rotting meat and dried blood, and its tail twitched menacingly. Disturbingly, it looked a third larger than it had been the last time he'd seen it.

“Oh my god!” He said, nearly having a heart attack. He scrambled back against the log.

The creature opened a single eye in its eerily human face, this face entirely different from the one he remembered. It didn't even get up, just flicked its tail in his general direction and turned away.

An intense, burning agony sprouted in his chest. Nico looked down and saw his torso peppered with sharp, pointy projectiles.

Nico shadow traveled back to his father's throne room and started yanking the spikes out and tossing them on the floor.

“Ow, ow, ow,” he muttered. “Shit, ow!”

He heard his father walk in.

“That won't work,” Hades muttered. “Nico, it does me no good if the poison is in your body. I need the spikes whole and unused.”

He walked over and helped Nico pull them out of his chest, inspecting each one and sighing when he realized none were still useable.

“Go back and get more. Collect them properly this time,” Hades said. “First the martyr bones, now this? You really are incompetent, I don't care what Nyx thinks.”

“I don't have a fucking clue what I'm doing,” Nico said, running his hands through his hair in exasperation. He wasn't embarrassed to admit it. He was still in terrible, searing pain and he had no one but himself to blame. “I saw the manticore and just blanked. I haven't seen a monster in a really long time. Sorry,” he said. “I'll... I'll try again and figure it out.”

Hades sighed.

“I'm not sending you back to camp for more training. They've never respected me there,” he said. “But I suppose you have not had the level of preparation for battle that other demigods receive. I won't have it said that I sent my son out unprepared.” Nico knew he was thinking of Nyx and her warning. Hades snapped his fingers, and Minos appeared.

Minos saw Nico's wounds and gasped.

“What happened to you? Are you alright?”

“Never mind,” Hades said. “He'll recover. Minos, in the matter of his training--”

“Is that ichor?” Minos asked.

Nico and Hades looked where Minos was pointing, at Nico's chest. There were tiny streams of golden blood trickling down his white skin, seeping out of the tiny pinpricks where the spines had been embedded.

“What the...” Nico said.

Hades grabbed Nico's shoulder and shadow traveled him away.

Nico looked around. He was in a cave he didn't recognize, a humid, mossy, drippy cavern with bats flitting around. There were even holes in the ceiling that revealed the sky. In the center of the cavern was a massive cauldron that was smoking and giving off a noxious smell.

“Hecate!” Hades shouted.

A short, heavyset woman stepped out from behind the cauldron. She had long oddly colored hair down to her ankles and her feet were bare.

“Hi, boss,” she grinned. “What can I do for you?”

“You assisted Persephone in healing my son, did you not?”

Her smile dropped off her face.

“Yes. Why?” She asked, her voice wavering.

“What is this?” Hades asked, pointing at Nico's chest. “Is this ichor? Don't tell me I'm seeing things.”

She hesitated, stepping closer, seeming wary of getting too close to Hades.

“Ichor?” She asked. “Oh. Oh, that!” She cackled. “Oh, silly, that's not ichor! It's ambrosia!”

“Ambrosia?” Hades and Nico both said in tandem.

“Yes, of course. You overdosed on ambrosia. It will take a long time to work out of your system.”

“Ambrosia is a lighter color than this,” Hades said.

“But it's mixed with blood,” Hecate said, propping a hand on one rounded hip. “Naturally it won't be the same color as pure ambrosia.”

She was very curvaceous, Nico noted, with an amount of cleavage that would have been borderline illegal on the surface. Up close he noticed she had an insane number of tattoos visible beneath her sheer dress that seemed to move as he looked at them, and her hair was fried from being dyed too many times. It was currently henna red with a greenish yellow color at the roots.

Hades shook his head, glancing at the now-drying golden blood.

“Why would it be ichor? How strange that you'd even think that,” Hecate shrugged.

“Nevermind,” Hades said, frowning. “Meet me in my throne room. That's an order.”

Hecate was already waiting in the throne room alongside Minos when Nico and Hades returned, only somehow she'd had time to get a mug of tea and a lemon poppy seed muffin. She ate while Hades began speaking.

“Nico is not going back to Camp Half Blood,” Hades said firmly. “But I insist that he become a proper demigod. What little Chiron taught him, he seems to have forgotten.”

Nico turned red, but he couldn't deny it. He still felt like an idiot for freaking out at the manticore.

“I am ordering the two of you to teach him combat and magic so that he can be more efficient in his service to the realm. He owes Nyx and I quite a few magical objects, and I want him to fetch them in ways that bring honor to my name. No more swiping credit cards and getting other people to do your job for you,” Hades said, poking Nico in the back and making Nico turn even redder. That was also a fair callout, but it didn't feel good.

“May I ask why he's not going to camp?” Minos said. “Not that I want him to leave. I'm just wondering.”

“My kids are there and doing fine,” Hecate shrugged. “Nico can stay in my cabin.”

“If Chiron does not see fit to build me my own cabin, he has no business teaching my son anything,” Hades said angrily.

“'Kay, nevermind,” Hecate shrugged, unbothered. “Just a suggestion. I'll teach him what I can.”

“Me too,” Minos said, stepping forward eagerly.

“Watch it,” Hades said. “You will teach him swordsmanship. Nothing else. He's younger than he looks.”

Minos stepped back, smiling sheepishly. Nico rolled his eyes. Of course his dad had to go and ruin that for him, too.

“I completely understand,” Minos said, bowing his head. Hecate stifled another cackle.

Hades went back to his office, and was left alone with his trainers.

“I'll take him first. It's a slow death day,” Minos said to Hecate, who nodded and left. “Well. This was unexpected,” he said, turning to Nico. “But I welcome the opportunity to help prepare you to defend yourself.”

“Thank you,” Nico said. “So, what do I do, exactly? I had sword lessons at camp, but it was a while ago. I wasn't any good.”

Minos scratched his chin, thinking.

“You'll need a sword and shield,” he said. “The good thing about me already being dead is, you can slice me up all you want,” he said, patting his torso. “Nothing can hurt me anymore.”

“I'll have to get used to that idea,” Nico said. “You're not a very ghostly ghost. It'll still feel like I'm stabbing you.”

“Good. It gets you ready for the real thing.”

He brought Nico to the wide porch overlooking Asphodel and asked a skeleton to bring a sword for Nico. He had Nico run through everything he remembered learning at camp, which wasn't much. He'd been ten when he'd studied under Chiron, and now his height and center of gravity had changed. Rusty was an understatement for how ridiculous he probably looked.

In spite of that, Minos was incredibly patient with him. He corrected Nico's form every time in the exact same calm tone of voice, and demonstrated techniques over and over as many times as it took with no sign of growing frustrated with him. Having a ghost teach you things was a great idea, Nico realized. His patience was literally infinite.

Nico's was not. Quite the opposite; he hated every second of training.

“This is stupid,” he said in a moment of frustration. His arm hurt from practicing the various sweeps of the sword. “I can turn invisible and basically teleport myself. I don't have to duel anybody one on one. If I have time to do all these movements, I have time to just leave and come back from another direction.”

“I considered that,” Minos said. “But you need to get the basics mastered before you start doing things your way.”

“I'm just sick of this,” Nico sighed. “How long have we been practicing?”

Minos shrugged. “A few minutes?” He suggested.

Nico checked his phone.

“Try ten hours,” he said, tossing the sword to the ground. “Okay. I need a break.”

Minos agreed to work with him again another time, and Nico went to the kitchen and told the skeletons to make him some ice cream. He felt like he'd earned it. He sat alone at the wooden table in the kitchen and played on his phone while he ate, trying to get the repetitive movements of the sword training out of his head. How he'd held up for ten hours straight, he had no idea, but he was painfully bored of it now.

If Minos had flirted with him a little it might have helped, but he'd been depressingly professional. Nico added 'Scared off my ghost crush' to his already very long list of reasons he resented his father. It wasn't fair; he didn't think he was too young at all. He didn't even know how old he was, and Minos was dead, so who cared if they dated?

Maybe it was stupid to even imagine it. He was well aware that Minos was a shade, and naturally that made things weird. But he was a different sort of shade in Nico's eyes. Not like those other ones, who were forgetful and transparent and parroted the same words over and over again.

Still, although Minos had a special job in the Underworld, he was still very much dead. Was it insane to like a dead guy?

He had such good hair, though. And his skin still glowed like he'd just stepped out of the Cretan sun.

Nico finished his ice cream slowly, scraping the bottom of the bowl and staring off into space. There had been a little red maraschino cherry on top of the small sundae, and when he'd finished the ice cream he gently balanced the cherry on the rim of the bowl. He hated them, so he'd always left them on the side for Bianca whenever they had ice cream together.

He really didn't want to train any more. The initial humiliation of the manticore encounter was wearing off, and his usual combo of stressed-out, guilty, and kind of sad was beginning to return.

Bianca would have killed that manticore, he thought. She'd have loved training to fight it and hunting it down. If she'd been a huntress for longer, she might have chased down incredible monsters all over the planet, having adventures Nico couldn't even imagine. She'd had so much to look forward to. She could have had an incredible life.

A life Nico wasn't a part of. He pushed that thought down into a corner of his mind where resentful, bitter feelings about Bianca were denied and ignored. All that would be fixed once he had her back. She'd see how much he loved her when he gave her a second chance at life.

A toxic mass of anxiety twisted in his gut. What if he succeeded and she still wanted to go back to Artemis? He really, really didn't want to think about that. It couldn't happen. It wouldn't. He wouldn't let it.

To take his mind off it, he pictured Bianca walking through the woods outside Westover with him, searching for signs the manticore had left behind. He imagined them both drawing matching black swords, facing the monster down and fighting side by side. He'd have felt so much braver knowing she was by his side, watching his back, protecting him the way she always had. He'd never get used to feeling so alone in the world.

He drew in a deep breath, trying to stay motivated. It would be easy to give up, but she'd want him to keep trying. It might be a strange and crooked path that led to her resurrection, but he'd walk it.

He felt like, just maybe, it was a sign that his father had asked him to collect manticore venom when it was the first monster she and Nico had ever met. Westover was where things had started to fall apart, where Bianca had started making the choices that would lead to her doom.

Whatever the Fates had in store for him, he knew that getting stronger and serving his father would be a part of it. It felt right.

He stood up, wiping his hands on his pants since he'd gotten ice cream on them. Then he felt a stab of guilt, remembering the pants had been designer and bought specially for him by Persephone. Were there dry cleaners in the Underworld?

He caught sight of something moving out of the corner of his eye and turned around, thinking it might be his father, or Morpheus back for more cereal. Nothing was there. He turned back to the table.

The cherry was gone. He looked around the sides of the bowl, the floor, even picked the bowl up and checked underneath. The cherry was definitely gone.

He stood, frozen in the center of the kitchen, looking around desperately.

“Bianca,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “I know you're here. I know you're listening. Why won't you talk to me? Why won't you let me see you?”

The crackling fire in the hearth taunted him, making him think he was hearing things. He raised a hand and put it out with a cloak of shadow, smothering it.

“Bianca!” He said firmly, turning in a slow circle, examining every corner of the room for signs of a shade lurking. There was no response but silence and stillness.

“If you ever loved me, say something,” he said. Still nothing, and it crushed him. Near tears, he spoke again into the darkness.

“I can't go on like this. I can't live without you. I'm trying to bring you back, but it's so hard. I don't know if I can do it. If you want me to kill myself, I will. For you, I will, but I need a sign that it's what you want. I need to know you'll come to Elysium with me and be with Mama. She's waiting for us there. You could be with her now! I don't understand why you're not,” he trailed off.

Nothing again.

“We're the children of Hades,” he said weakly, sitting down at the table and leaning over the empty bowl, staring down into it hopelessly. “Death isn't supposed to be an obstacle for us. Why are you making it one?”

He sat in silence for a long time, staring into the bowl, a typical greek clay vessel with portaiture on the outside. There was also a figure in black painted at the bottom of the bowl. A man in a long, flowing cloak with vast wings. He didn't recognize who it was supposed to be.

Whatever vague indication of Bianca's presence he'd felt, it was gone now. He knew for certain that he was alone. He stood and, in a rage, hurled the bowl into the dead fireplace, shattering it into pieces. He rubbed at his eyes with his hands, pacing the room.

Had she always been this cruel?

He had a vague notion that maybe if he went to sleep, she'd tell him something. Maybe there was something wrong with her. Maybe she couldn't speak to him the way a shade normally would. He hurried to his room, pulled the sheet over himself, turned over and shut his eyes.

It wasn't easy to fall asleep, and he laid there for a long time just stewing in his miserable thoughts, feeling stupid for this desperate and unlikely idea. However, when he did eventually drift off to sleep, he had a dream immediately.

He was standing on a crowded sidewalk, and people were walking through him. That was weird, so he stepped to one side.

He glanced around and recognized the street lined with modest homes and small businesses under a wide blue sky, in the shadow of a familiar mountain. It was Litochoro, yet again. His hopes of seeing Bianca dissipated.

He looked inside the window of the nearest store. Maria Bova was buying tomatoes in a small grocery, humming to herself. He watched her pick through piles of vegetables for a few minutes, but he couldn't come up with any reason for why he was seeing her in his dreams.

He walked up to her. She was wearing a long floral dress with an ugly print that aged her ten years, and her hair was a frizzy mess. She needed a hairstylist, he thought with dismay, and a skincare routine. She didn't seem to be taking good care of herself, and it made him sad.

“Maria,” he said, standing directly behind her.

She turned and looked at him, and for a moment he thought she could see him.

“Morning,” Calliope said, walking through him and standing beside Maria.

“Good morning,” Maria said, watching as Calliope picked through the bin of onions. “May I ask you a question?”

Calliope gave her a disparaging glance. The two women appeared to be roughly the same age and ethnicity, but that was where there similarities ended. Calliope's hair was gleaming, her shining black curls pinned elegantly atop her head. Her sundress was off the shoulder and tailored to fit her perfectly, and she looked like an effortlessly natural beauty. Maria just looked effortless, full stop, and Nico could see her confidence wilting before Calliope's gaze.

Fortunately, he was pretty sure Calliope wasn't judgmental when it came to appearances, and more likely was composing epic poetry in her mind about her neighbor. Still, it was probably an unflattering chunk of verse.

“If it's about that noise complaint, forget it,” Calliope said sharply. “We're not quieting down.”

“My mother did that, not me,” Maria said. “I promise I don't mind your music. And your recitations. And all the arguing at all hours of the day and night. I mean, I don't like it, but I'd certainly never call the police on you.”

“Mhm,” Calliope said, turning away from her.

“Is your sister still offering music lessons?” Maria asked, blurting the question out like she had to get it over with. Nico wondered why she seemed so nervous to inquire about something so mundane.

“I think so,” Calliope said, brightening and giving Maria her full attention. “You play music?”

“I sing,” Maria said. “Opera, but I'm open to trying something new if she prefers.”

“Okay. Come on over tonight,” Calliope said. “We'll see if you've got something to work with.”

“Oh, I can't today,” Maria said. “I have to get the groceries home and start on prep for tonight. But I'll come by another time, if that's alright?”

Calliope shrugged and continued shopping. Maria left the grocery with a flush of excitement on her face.

Nico had no clue what this had to do with him. He stood in the narrow aisles of fruits and veggies, racking his brain for an explanation, when the walls started to shimmer. Suddenly they changed just slightly, and the words on the signs became Not-Greek. They looked like Greek, but he couldn't read them, and nothing made sense anymore. It was like his old dyslexia, which he thought he'd grown out of, had returned and been amplified.

Standing in front of him was Bianca.

“Is this what you wanted?” She asked. The sound leaving her lips was different from the shapes her mouth formed, and the timing seemed off. Nico felt like there was a film over his vision that was altering things. Still, she was there, and her dark brown eyes were looking at him with a distant expression.

Nico's knees nearly buckled with the emotional impact of seeing her again after so long. He felt weightless and dazed. It was really her, looking as she had the last time he'd seen her, wearing the exact same outfit.

Her black hair was pulled into a high ponytail with the same purple scrunchie. She'd found it on a public bathroom floor and kept it, and Nico had teased her about it, pretending it stank, although it hadn't. Gods, he'd been such an annoying kid, he thought, cringing at the memory.

Her shoes were muddy like she'd just been walking around outside. She even had the same pimple on her nose he remembered her having when she'd left him behind.

“Bianca?” He said.

She took a step forward, and his stomach lurched. Something was wrong. The way she held her mouth, her eyes, the way her weight shifted-- there was nothing shadelike about it. More importantly, shades didn't have pimples. They weren't frozen in the last form they'd taken, they were distilled into the purest shape of who they'd been, usually at their prime. The Bianca who'd hidden from him in Asphodel, who'd eaten the cherry from his ice cream, wouldn't look like this one.

“You're not really her,” Nico said. “You've come from my memories. Are you a hallucination? A dream?”

“I'm the dream you asked for,” she said. “The one you prayed for.”

“No you're not!” Nico said, quickly losing control of his temper. “You're not even close to what I wanted. You're fake! What the hell are you playing at, anyway? Are you trying to torture me? Is this some kind of a sick joke? What kind of way is this to treat grieving people? How dare you? Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Bianca's face crumpled, and she started to cry silently.

“I'm sorry,” she whimpered. “I was just trying to help.”

Nico's anger dissipated. It may not have really been his sister, but he still couldn't stand to see her cry.

“Hold on,” he said. “I thought you were Hypnos, but you're not, are you?”

Bianca shook her head.

“I didn't mean to make you cry,” Nico said awkwardly. He stood there scratching his head, unable to come up with the words to make her stop. He had a right to be mad, after all. Didn't he?

“I think there's been a misunderstanding,” he said. “Can I talk to the real you?”

Bianca shook her head and disappeared. Then Nico woke up.

Chapter Text

The return to reality was abrupt and disorienting. Nico blinked at the ceiling for a moment, then got up and headed out to the fields of Asphodel, determined to get to the bottom of what had just happened.

Departing from the palace, the Styx flowed on the left, and the Lethe on the right side, forming the borders of Asphodel. He headed right, walking along the riverbank and passing through crowds of shades as he moved towards the source of the waters. The river narrowed as he continued down a riverside path he'd never explored before.

“Alright, move along!” Hades shouted. “Form an orderly, single file line!”

Nico stopped in his tracks as his father loomed in front of him, standing on the banks of the Lethe beneath a gnarled poplar tree. Nico saw that his father stood beside a bone gravel path leading into the misty waters. There was a small group of shades standing before him, waiting in line. Alecto brought up the rear of the group, ensuring no one strayed and escaped back into the amorphous crowd. Escape was a real danger, since once shades joined with the shimmering mass of the other shades in the field, it was not easy to pick them out again amongst the horde.

“What about single file wasn't clear?” Hades barked. “Move it! I haven't got all day!”

He observed closely as the shades straightened into line and the first shade knelt by the waters and took a drink.

“A little more. Good. Next!” Hades said, pulling the newly Lethe'd soul to stand beside him to make room for the next shade.

Nico trembled a little watching them. He remembered vividly the sensation of the water pouring down his throat. Alecto's claws had gripped the back of his neck, and his father had looked on emotionlessly as he and Bianca had choked down the ice cold water of the river of forgetfulness.

Forgetting, at the time, had felt like a profound sense of relief. He'd been wracked with grief over his mother and terrified that another bolt of lightning was coming for him, too. The last memory he'd lost had been that of himself on that gravel riverbank, the mist coming up to his eyes, weeping in gratitude that the bad feelings were gone and he was finally free. After that, presumably his father had put him to sleep, and he'd woken up in the Lotus Casino, blissfully free of painful memory.

It was sort of like cheating death. It granted one with a profound sense that everything was over. Only it hadn't really been over at all.

That was glaringly obvious, he thought, as he awkwardly made eye contact with his Dad. Nothing had been over, just put on pause like a horror movie that was so scary you needed a break halfway through. His life had eventually resumed, and it had all gotten so much worse. Monsters. Chores. His sister dead. Summer camp. All horrors beyond imagining.

“Yes?” Hades said, raising his eyebrows. He supervised the shades closely as they drank, Nico observed, but he was glancing up at Nico curiously in between drinkers.

“Just going to see Hypnos,” Nico shrugged.

“Why?” Hades asked, nudging a shade with his foot to drink a little more.

“How do you know when they're done?” Nico asked, pointing at the shade.

“Their faces become featureless,” Hades said, kneeling down and turning the face of the last shade to drink to look directly at Nico. It now had only the barest suggestion of a face. Hades let go, and directed the shade to stand with the others.

“They're all going to be reborn?” Nico asked.

Hades nodded.

“Did it bother you having to wipe my memories? And Bianca's?” Nico asked. “Because you didn't seem like you gave a crap, the way I remember it.”

“There is no point in grieving the necessary,” Hades said flatly.

Nico rolled his eyes. It wouldn't kill his dad to show an emotion other than anger once in awhile.

“Wow. Father of the year,” Nico drawled. “Speaking of which, I had another question.”

“I await it with dread.”

“Bianca visited me earlier,” Nico said. “I mean, for real. But she wasn't visible, and she didn't talk to me.”

“How did you know she was really there?” Hades asked.

“I was eating ice cream and there was a maraschino cherry on it. I don't like those, so I put it to one side and--”

“She took it. She always did that,” Hades said. “I used to give her mine, too. But she didn't say anything?”

“No. I was wondering if maybe she couldn't. Like there was something stopping her from responding. I thought maybe you'd done something to her so she couldn't talk to me or something--”

“That is enough!” Hades said suddenly, his temper flaring. “Has it ever crossed your mind that the sole reason for my existence isn't to find new and creative ways to torment you? Do you think I have anything to gain from deceiving you about your sister? Do you ever plan to ask me a question that's not in bad faith?”

“Oh, great, here we go again,” Nico said. “I'm so sick of how you always talk to me. I get it already! I'm disobedient, I'm disrespectful, I'm incompetent and rude and a bad son, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. I wouldn't be surprised if you were hiding Bianca from me. You probably think I don't even deserve to talk to my own sister.”

“Do you?” Hades asked.

“Boss?” Alecto had been hovering behind the line of shades, her eyes flicking back and forth between Nico and Hades as they argued.

“What do you mean, do I?” Nico said, feeling like Hades had just struck him.

“Boss,” Alecto repeated. “The shade is gone!”

Nico saw that she was right, and the last shade who'd been supposed to drink from the river had wandered back into the crowd. Hades began shouting a very long stream of ancient Greek curses. Nico knew there wouldn't be any time to waste. He ran into the crowd and quickly scanned the hundreds of shades that were hovering like human shaped smoke in the air before him. Peering into the haze, he saw one that had something slightly off about him that was hard to articulate.

Nico grabbed the shade firmly and marched him back out to the river.

“Please don't take me back,” the shade murmured, cowering behind Nico and trying to hide from Hades. Nico kept a firm grip on his arm so he couldn't escape again.

The shade whimpered in fear as Hades ordered him back to the riverbank.

“You have nothing to fear from him,” Nico told the shade quietly.

“You're sure this is the one?” Hades asked Nico, inspecting the shade.

“I'm sure,” Nico said. “He just got spooked because we were yelling.”

“Let's get this over with,” Hades sighed. “Drink.”

The shade reluctantly knelt by the water's edge. When he hesitated to drink, Nico knelt beside him.

“You chose this,” he reminded the shade.

“I don't know if I can do it,” the shade said, staring down at the churning mist. “I'm scared it'll feel like dying all over again.”

“What's wrong with that?” Nico asked.

The shade looked at him, his eyes glassy and unfocused. Despite his ghostly and relatively expressionless form, Nico could feel the tension and fear in him.

“Losing my life was one thing,” he said. “Losing my memories means losing me.”

“It doesn't,” Nico reassured him. “I've done this before, and trust me, you won't be that different. Same fatal flaw. Same heroic qualities. Just evolved a little.”

“Really?”

“I promise,” Nico said. “And all your memories are kept on file here. You'll get them back the next time you die. You'll see for yourself I'm right.”

“Will you be here?” He asked. “You'll make sure I get them? You won't forget me?”

Nico laughed.

“I'll be here one way or another, I guess,” he said. “Yeah, I promise. Now quit stalling for time,” Nico said, reaching into the Lethe and cupping a handful of water in his palms. “I know you're not a coward, or you wouldn't be here.”

“No, I'm not,” the shade said, smiling at him. There was almost a sparkle of excitement in his eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered. He drank the water from Nico's hands, three mouthfuls, until Nico could see that he was finished. His face went even more featureless than before, and it was obvious that the inside of his mind was like a blank slate, ready to begin a new life.

Nico stood and handed the shade off to his father.

“See how easy it is not to grab people by the neck and shove their faces into the river?” Nico said, glaring at Alecto.

“Now we're behind schedule by three entire minutes,” Alecto snapped.

“They're people, not cattle,” Nico said. “You're running this place more like a slaughterhouse than an afterlife.”

“And what's wrong with that?” Alecto shot back. “Slaughterhouses are both organized and efficient, and that's precisely what Lord Hades wants!”

“That's enough, Alecto,” Hades said. “I think it's time for your break.”

Alecto stuck her tongue out at Nico and flew away, her dark leathery wings flapping in the darkness.

“Is that what you want?” Nico asked his father.

“With our current volume of traffic, it's the only way to operate without risking falling into complete chaos,” Hades said. “As I said before, there is no point grieving the necessary.”

“But is it what you want?” Nico asked.

Hades sighed heavily. He sighed a lot. Nico thought sometimes that his father looked like he hadn't slept in centuries, and today he looked worse than usual. He recalled that Persephone wasn't around, and Hades had no one to talk to other than him. That was the whole reason Nico was there in the first place, and he felt a pang of guilt that he'd forgotten that, instead becoming absorbed in his own problems.

“I'm sorry I picked a fight with you earlier,” Nico said. “I know Bianca is choosing to avoid me. I don't know why I felt like I had to accuse you of doing it.”

“I hate Demeter down to the marrow of my bones,” Hades said. “I resent her for Persephone's absence half of each year. I know it was Persephone's decision to leave. But it's easier to blame someone else.”

“Yeah,” Nico agreed. “I get that.”

“I know you do,” Hades said. “I understand you better than you understand yourself. It's the only reason I did not disintegrate you for your impudence a long time ago.” To Nico's surprise, Hades ran his hand over Nico's head affectionately. “I think Persephone would have liked to have seen what you did for that shade,” he said. “And I respect you for advocating for him. Perhaps you are not as incompetent as I thought.”

“Thanks,” Nico said quietly. He watched as Hades gathered the shades and led them away into the darkness, taking them to be reborn. Another time, he'd have liked to watch the process and maybe speak to his father a little more, but he had unfinished business with someone.

Nico traveled along the shore of the Lethe for a long time. He was familiar enough with the Underworld to sense the odd, inconsistent time dilation that sometimes happened, and he felt time flowing around him more and more slowly as he approached the source of the Lethe. The water itself even appeared to move more slowly the further he walked into the darkness, reciting a passage from the Aeneid that he'd memorized for this purpose when he'd researched Hypnos earlier.

“Ibant obscuri sola sub nocte per umbram perque domus Ditis vacuas et inania regna,” Nico recited from memory, looking around him. He began to see more more caves appearing in the distance. If he wasn't imagining things, which he might be, the poem was helping. It was growing darker by the second as he traveled closer to the homes of Nyx's many children, and he was beginning to depend more on the sound of the water than on his vision. “Something something, vestibulum ante ipsum primis in faucibus Orci Luctus et ultrices posuere cubilia Curae;” he mumbled. “Okay, that first cave was probably Orcus's. The stalactites on it look like teeth. I forget what comes next. I should have asked Virgil for simpler directions. Senectus, Metus, Fames, Egestas,” he said, pointing at each cave and guessing who might live there. He had no desire to meet any of them, but the number of caves and the numbers of names he remembered seemed to be matching up.

He heard a distinctly familiar cackle come from above him, and he remembered Alecto was on break. For a second he froze, thinking she was cackling in eager anticipation of swooping down and disemboweling him with her talons. Then he heard a man's voice speaking.

“In the criminal justice system, sexually based offenses are considered especially heinous. In New York City, the dedicated detectives who investigate these vicious felonies are members of an elite squad known as the special victims unit. These are their stories.”

A TV show theme song started up, a catchy yet ominous tune that Nico was unfamiliar with.

“We've seen this one,” a harsh woman's voice said.

“Shut up, I haven't,” Alecto responded. One of her sisters must have been with her.

Nico walked quietly so as not to draw their attention. From the acoustics of the TV show, it became apparent that their cave's entrance was in the upper part of the wall, only to be reached by flying.

He passed a few cave mouths, but he realized that Nyx had plenty of winged children and the number of caves might be a lot higher than just those he could see from ground level. He was a little curious about some of them. Old Age sounded okay. Pestilence and Fear, not so much. Still, he knew better than to judge a book by its cover. Most of the gods he'd met in the Underworld had been nice.

Somnus, AKA Hypnos, was supposed to live in the cave next to Thanatos, but that didn't help Nico much. He just knew that Hypnos's cave was the source of the Lethe.

He followed the sound of the water as far as he could, until it disappeared into the mouth of a dark cave with white poppies in front. The water was reduced to a tiny trickle, and the sound was so quiet he almost couldn't hear it.

The cave was pitch black, and he tried to walk as quietly as he possibly could. It was so dark, however, that he tripped on something and fell flat on his face on the ground, knocking something over that clattered to the floor loudly.

He rolled over and got to his feet. There was no sound of anyone waking or moving but him, so he went ahead and turned his phone flashlight on.

The cave was a large, airy dome of black rock with very little furniture. There were thin curtains hanging from the ceiling, and he could see that they'd been embroidered with strange creatures, symbols, and many images of winged children. Nico had knocked over an empty hydria that had been set beside a hole in the ground; that had been what he'd tripped on.

He knelt over the hole. It wasn't very deep, and it was filled with water from the Lethe. The source of the river was just above it; a small fissure in the rock was producing a tiny trickle of water that filled the little cistern in the floor. The water that overflowed their cistern continued out of the cave and eventually formed the Lethe.

Fascinated, Nico dipped his fingers into the water and felt it tingle on his fingers, cold and familiar.

“Thirsty?” Someone whispered.

Nico turned around. A young boy, maybe eight years old, was standing before him. He was pudgy and rosy cheeked with curly brown hair, and he had little black wings sprouting from his back. The boy yawned and rubbed his eyes. He was wrapped in a blanket printed with pictures of Ninja Turtles.

“No,” Nico said. “I'm good, thanks.”

The boy stepped past him and reached into the cistern, slurping the water greedily from his hands. Nico noticed with distaste that he was getting spit in the water when he put his chubby little hands in to scoop up more, but he didn't think there was a point in saying anything. This was obviously where the boy lived, and it was his water well.

“I'm looking for Morpheus,” Nico said. “He's the one that turns into people in dreams, right?”

“I'm Morpheus,” the boy said shyly. “Are you here to hurt me?”

He looked up at Nico with big brown eyes, and tears formed at the corners of them. He blinked his long eyelashes, and Nico's heart melted. He looked like a sad puppy.

“No, of course not,” Nico said quickly. “I actually came to apologize. You were just doing your job and the way I spoke to you was really obnoxious. I'm sorry I made you cry.”

Morpheus reached out and took Nico's hand, which Nico accepted. He tried to ignore how damp it was.

Morpheus led him past more wall hangings, deeper into the cave. Nico brushed one hanging aside and gasped.

White haired Hypnos was sound asleep on a king sized bed in the back of the cave, snoring, and more small winged children in a wide range of ages were lying on the bed beside him, on the floors, and in hammocks. Nico realized that what he had taken for wall hangings were actually just hammocks that had been unpinned from the ceiling; their owners must have been flying around on earth bringing people dreams.

“What--” Nico began to say. Morpheus waved his hand, and Nico's vision blacked out.

Suddenly, he was back in Hypnos's cave, and everything looked the way it had a minute ago. He took a step and turned around, however, and where the dark entrance to the cave had been, now there was sunlight and green grass, and a grove of poplar trees.

Stepping out into the light, he saw that the trees were more green and vibrant than any trees he'd ever seen, and the leaves rustling in the wind made sounds like soft music. There were enormous apples hanging from the tree branches, bright red and shining.

“My Papa made this place for us,” Morpheus said. “When he was teaching us to craft dreams. Now it's where we come to talk. We don't talk in the sleeping chamber,” he admonished Nico with a stern look.

“My bad,” Nico said.

“He said you wanted to ask me something,” Morpheus said.

“That's right,” Nico said, remembering his original purpose for his interest in Morpheus. “It's not really a big deal, but I've been having these dreams.” Nico explained his visions of Maria Bova in Litochoro.

“Those aren't dreams,” Morpheus said.

“Oh.”

“It must be a vision of some kind, because I didn't send any dream other than the one with your sister and the one we're in now. Papa told me he didn't send you any either. He doesn't do much lately,” he said, looking a little sad. “He said he has to delegate to me, because I'm the oldest.”

“That's a lot of responsibility,” Nico said.

“I don't mind appearing in dreams and sending messages,” Morpheus said, brightening. “Sometimes I get to take the shape of a god and give an ominous warning. That's always interesting. But I like taking the forms of people's relatives the most. Usually I get hugs, and I like hugs. Most people don't yell like you,” he added.

“So you like your job?” Nico asked.

“Yes,” Morpheus said, taking a seat cross-legged on the ground, where Nico joined him. “I like my job, but lately I barely have time to do it. My siblings need to be supervised, and they don't like me telling them what to do. They always say, 'You're not Papa, you can't tell me what to do!' But if I don't tell them, who will? Papa's too busy, and I'm the oldest,” he sighed.

Nico had a gut wrenching vision of himself screaming at Bianca that she wasn't his mom on more than one occasion. He'd been such a brat sometimes, and it made him sick to think about it.

“What happened to make your papa so busy?” He asked. “Is Hades giving him more work? He mentioned something about that.”

“I'm not sure,” Morpheus said. “It's like that for everyone these days. We're working faster and faster, but it seems like more and more people keep needing dreams, and getting old, and sick, and dying, all that stuff.”

“You mean things are harder for all of the children of Nyx. As well as her grandkids,” Nico said, gesturing at Morpheus.

“Yes,” Morpheus said, flopping over onto his side and rolling over on the grass. He sighed heavily, toying with a tiny white poppy that had sprouted in the grass before his eyes. “We're all tired. The oneiroi are always tired, but this is different,” he said. “You know?”

“I'll ask my father about it. Maybe he can give your papa more time off to help you with stuff,” Nico said.

“We don't need help with the dreams,” Morpheus said. “I just wish we could spend time together. I miss weaving dreamscapes with him. And it would be nice if my Mama could visit. The last time she came to see us we were working too much and she got upset. She said Aphrodite doesn't give her enough PTO to waste it.”

“She works for Aphrodite?”

Morpheus nodded.

“Do you know what PTO means? I didn't want to ask while she was yelling.”

“No clue.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“You and your papa seem close,” Nico observed.

“Oh, the closest,” Morpheus said. “Are you close with yours?”

“Not really.”

“Lord Hades scares me. Are you scared of him?”

“No,” Nico said. “What's the worst he can do, kill me? That would inconvenience him more than it would me.”

“Is that so?” Morpheus asked skeptically.

“I think we both want to get along better,” Nico said. “But you know how he is.”

Morpheus gave him a look. He might have the appearance of a child, but that look in his eyes was thousands of years old. Nico knew Morpheus saw right through his excuses.

“Okay, maybe it's not all him,” Nico sighed. “I've got an attitude problem. I can admit that. But I have my reasons,” he added weakly.

“If you could work things out with him, he might help my Papa,” Morpheus said. “If you're really sorry for yelling at me, you'll try.”

“I will,” Nico said.

“In the meantime I'll ask my aunts and uncles about your visions,” Morpheus said. “It is very odd that you only experience them while sleeping. Normally visions can come at any time.”

“Strange,” Nico murmured.

Nico lay back on the grass beside Morpheus, staring at the sky. He reached up and pointed at a cloud.

“The clouds aren't moving,” he said. As he said it, the cloud twitched.

Morpheus rolled onto his back and watched.

“Point at it again,” he said.

As Nico lifted his finger and pointed, the cloud shifted further, then shuddered and morphed into a square shape. He withdrew his hand, and the cloud popped back into its normal shape.

“One more time,” Morpheus said.

Nico waved his hand at it again. The cloud began to move to the right.

“Did I do that?” Nico asked.

“Yes,” Morpheus said. “Are you sure you're not one of my brothers?”

Nico and Morpheus talked for a long time about dreams. Morpheus helped him practice altering the dreamscape, and it was a fascinating experience, although Nico was only able to change very small details with great effort. If he worked hard enough at his new ability, maybe one day he'd be able to fall asleep and live in a paradise of his own creation every night.

Eventually Morpheus said he had to return to work. Nico knew he needed to continue his training, so he went directly to Hecate's cave.

Chapter Text

“Hello?” Nico called out. He'd shadow traveled to the same cave that his father had brought him to earlier. He knew it was the same cave, because the big black cauldron was sitting front and center, but Hecate was nowhere to be seen.

He walked toward the center of the cave where the enormous cauldron sat on a platform and peeked into it curiously. He saw eyeballs, toad legs, butterfly wings, and mushrooms floating inside. It was pretty much what he'd expected from the goddess of witchcraft.

Whatever she was cooking, it smelled delicious, but he didn't dare taste it. He wasn't in the right headspace to cope with being turned into a newt. He was worried he'd enjoy it too much, crawl into a mossy nook and live out his days eating slugs. It sounded better than what he was currently dealing with.

He walked past the cauldron and went deeper into the cave, calling her name to no answer. His gut twisted with anxiety over the thought of getting accused of trespassing, and he called her name loudly one more time.

“Back here!” He heard her call in response.

Relieved, he hurried over to the far side of the cave. As he passed, he noticed she had nooks carved into the walls for activities other than witchcraft. There was a sitting area with couches, a bedroom with a four poster bed with black lace curtains draped around it, and an enormous bathtub made of gleaming copper. A cursory glance at the bathtub revealed that it was also full of bubbling magical liquid, so it seemed that magical projects were very much her focus at the moment.

As he walked he also registered that the place was a mess. The cave floor was sticky, there was bat poop piled against the walls, there seemed to be a layer of dog hair stuck to everything, including his pants. He almost tripped over a giant quartz crystal that was growing out of the floor from a dangerous angle, cursing and rubbing his ankle.

She was in the furthest nook, where a wooden worktable was covered with metal scraps, gemstones, crystals and leather strips. Two chunky black labs were lying at her feet; they both ran up to greet Nico, snuffling at his pockets looking for treats.

Hecate was bent over her work, her multi-colored hair pulled out of her face in a messy bun. It looked like she was carving tiny sigils into small pieces of wood the size of human fingers.

“Come sit with me,” she said, patting the bench next to her. “I'm making protective amulets. Watch and learn.”

That was all the instruction he got from her for the next few hours. She was a hands on teacher, and she demonstrated only once before she began guiding his hands in carving the symbols on the wood. He painted evil eyes on beads, etched images onto cameo stones, and engraved Latin curses into thin sheets of metal. Finally she had him carefully wrap wire around crystals that were then put in smelly jars to be infused with herbal concoctions.

It was interesting work, and he helped her for quite a while before it occurred to him to ask how this was supposed to help with the manticore he was training to fight.

“Oh, I don't know,” was Hecate's answer. “I was just behind on my to-do list. I promise tokens like these in exchange for potion ingredients. I have an order to finish for Artemis; she's my biggest supplier of monster parts. Tell you what, you help me finish her order, and I'll teach you some offensive spells.”

“Okay,” Nico said. Hecate brought out a large bar of silver from her pocket and waved her hand, splitting it into two pieces and shaping them into crescent moons. Nico recognized what they would become immediately.

“Those are the lunula amulets the huntresses wear,” he said.

“Yeah, she's planning on at least two new girls this year,” Hecate said, adding the finishing touches to the little miniature moons.

Nico stared at them, biting the inside of his mouth. His sister had worn one of those necklaces. If it had been meant to protect her, it hadn't worked.

“What exactly do these necklaces do?” He asked.

“I'm not sure. Artemis puts the spells on them herself,” Hecate said. “I think it's either a tracking device or something to sustain their immortality. Maybe both. She could make the amulets on her own, but she says I give them a particular glow,” Hecate said proudly.

“You two are friends?”

“We're the best of best friends,” Hecate said.

Nico filed that information away and focused on the Lunula necklaces. His job was just to polish them, but Hecate made him polish until his hands hurt. Apparently that special glow was just elbow grease and tears, because it took a long time to get them shining to her standards.

She added the finishing touches, and the necklaces were ready to infuse. She popped them each into jars of a glowing silver substance she called liquid moonlight and left them to soak.

“Is it weird that I feel really exhausted,” he said, shaking his hands.

“Not at all. You're not used to making magical objects,” Hecate said. “Your magical abilities aren't bad. You sure you're not one of my kids?” She said, nudging him.

“I know you're joking, but it's funny you say that,” Nico said. “Morpheus asked me earlier whether I was one of Hypnos' kids. It turns out I can manipulate dreams a little.”

She didn't seem the least bit surprised.

“Hades wouldn't keep you around if you weren't good for anything,” she said. “Now comes the hard part.”

“Oh. I was hoping that was the hard part.”

She gave him an armload of books and scrolls and sent him to the living room to study. He read so many ancient Greek spells and incantations that his brain hurt. One of the scrolls had been written on in bright red ink across the top, “Medea's notes, do not touch!” He set that one aside nervously.

He set the stack down after many hours of painfully confusing reading.

“Hecate, do you mind if I take a break?” He called out. She agreed, waving him away, and Nico shadow traveled back to the palace.

He sat in his room for a while, not physically tired enough to sleep, but mentally exhausted from reading for hours on end. He shut his eyes in the dark and tried to clear the spells and incantations out of his brain. It was nearly impossible. He still had curses running through his mind when he took out his phone and texted Isis that he was learning magic. They texted back and forth for a while about the things he was learning, and he found chatting with her to be an excelledn distraction. She had a lot of good things to say about Hecate.

He was beginning to draw a map of connections in his mind between the various goddesses he'd gotten to know. Persephone had asked Nyx and Hecate to help with reviving him from his coma when he'd overdosed on ambrosia. Nyx was sort of like Persephone's boss, and Hecate her coworker. They were probably friends, too. In addtion to that, Isis had once been close with Persephone and she seemed to really like Hecate. And Artemis was definitely Hecate's best friend. Since all of the dark magical goddesses seemed to like him-- it was probably 99% pity, but he could live with that-- was it possible he'd have some pull with Artemis too?

It seemed as though, inadvertently, he'd made all the right connections to gain her attention. He knew she hated men, but if all of her female friends were on his side, she might cut him some slack.

She had also taken responsibility for Bianca and then immediately let her get killed. So, you know, there was that. If she felt an ounce of duty toward the young girls she brought into her fold, that ought to mean something to her.

Realistically, only an Olympian like Artemis would be willing to help him defy his father and resurrect Bianca. Hecate, Nyx, and Persephone would feel bound by their duty to the Underworld, but Artemis wouldn't have the same limitations. It had seemed an unlikely path before, but now a new possibility began to form in his mind.

Nico knew his break could be as short as five minutes or as long as five years; it would all be the same to Hecate. He decided to mull things over and walk around for a while in order to work on formulating the new plan. He hadn't taken a shower since his training with Minos, which was sort of gross if you thought about it. Even though the Underworld was icy cold and he hadn't sweat a drop, that many hours of training ought to do something to you. He decided to take a shower, thinking that hopefully he'd come up with ideas for approaching Artemis; showers were good for inspiration that way.

He walked over to the bathroom and opened the door. His dad was sitting in the large steaming tub in the center of the room.

“Nevermind,” Nico said, immediately spinning around and trying to leave.

“Not so fast,” Hades said. “Hypnos, take a break. Nico, you read.”

Hypnos ran out of the bathroom so fast he almost knocked Nico over in his rush to get out the door. Nico wondered how long he'd been stuck there. He walked over to the bench by the wall where Hypnos had been sitting, a copy of the Divine Comedy sitting open where he'd left it. There was even more Cheeto dust on it than last time.

“He's turning this thing orange,” Nico said in disgust, lifting the book. “Have some respect for literature. Geez.”

“He makes terrible smacking sounds when he eats as well,” Hades said, sinking lower into the dark water of the pool. “Awful.”

Nico turned the pages.

“But you put up with him anyway. You're that lonely.” Nico stated.

Hades didn't respond. Nico thought guiltily of what Persephone had asked of him, and of Morpheus's request for more time with his dad.

“You can give Hypnos a break,” Nico said reluctantly. “I'll read to you. I mean, like, whenever.”

“Really?” Hades asked, surprised.

“I do a better job anyway, you said.” Nico opened the book and started from the last page with orange fingerprints in it.

He wasn't sure how long he read for, but eventually Hades waved at him to stop. Nico glanced up and noticed his dad had redressed and was preparing to leave; he'd been too engrossed in reading to notice. A skeleton had come in at some point and was standing beside the tub with an armful of monogrammed towels and a pile of clothes.

“I must return to work,” his father said. “But... No, never mind,” he said, leaving in a hurry.

Nico laughed a little bit after his dad had left the room. He knew his dad was happy Nico had done something nice for him without complaining. He was such an awkward dude. Nico didn't necessarily regret the offer to read to him more often, but he harbored a secret hope that he could get his dad into podcasts instead. Then he'd be off the hook, and everyone would be happy.

He almost took a shower like he'd planned to, but then he looked at the bathtubs curiously. It was similar to a Roman bath system with multiple different tubs of varying shapes and temperatures, only they were all in the same room and appeared to feed from different Underworld water sources. That was part of its appeal to Nico-- he was curious what properties the different water might have. Maybe one of them could manticore-proof him.

The one his dad had been in was the hottest. He thought it probably was heated from the flaming river Phlegethon, because it had a sulfuric, smoky smell to it. He touched a finger to the surface and drew it back in shock at the heat. He went to another and found it was covered in ice. He cracked a hole in it and swished his hand around. That one felt non-lethal, and he knew some Ares campers at Camp Half Blood had sworn by ice baths in preparation for battle. He went ahead and jumped in.

It was icy cold, obviously, but tolerable since he was used to the cold of the Underworld already. He stood for a second, breathing through the cold, and went pleasantly numb after a moment.

He gently reached a hand over to the next pool and felt that it was the perfect medium-warm temperature, so he clambered up out of the ice bath and stood, preparing to jump into the next one.

That was a huge mistake, because the pool was full of blood. He reeled back quickly, but he slipped on the slick tile floor and slid directly into the blood pool, submerging immediately.

Immersed in slimy hot blood, he grabbed for the edge of the tub and felt his hands slipping and sliding on the tile, unable to get a good hold to pull himself out right away. He sat in the tub for a second and calmed himself down. It was gross, but it wasn't doing any harm to him. He should be relieved it wasn't Lethe or Styx water, which would have had far worse outcomes than just feeling icky.

He was determined to assume it was animal blood, because the alternative was too terrible to think of. He finally dragged himself out successful, finding it was easier when he wasn't in a panicked scramble to escape.

Feeling slimy and really stupid, he took a normal shower like a normal person. The whole time he showered, the skeleton stared at him with his empty eye sockets. He was pretty sure the skeleton was judging him.

After his very weird shower experiences, he went and found Minos at the judge's stand. Minos rose and went over to him eagerly.

“Back for more training?” He asked, smiling. His teeth were brilliantly white, and Nico returned his smile without hesitation.

“If you can take a break from work, I'd like that,” Nico said.

This time, Minos took him up to the palace garden, where Persephone attempted her plant related experiments. Poplars, poppies, and pomegranates appeared to be thriving, but that was it. A dead rosebush sat in the center of the garden, abandoned and sad looking.

“I know your heart isn't in this,” Minos said, giving him a sword and taking one up himself. “But it's good for you to learn anyway. It expands your skill set.”

“How do you know my heart isn't in it?” Nico asked, moving into position across from him to practive blocking attacks.

“I'm a judge,” Minos said. “It's my job to read hearts. I don't miss much.”

That was humbling. Nico was sure it was obvious he had a crush, but he realized it was probably really, really obvious to the ancient king, moreso than he'd thought. Maybe it had been from the beginning.

Minos began running through the same drills and sparring they'd done before.

“I wish you could teach me how to read people,” Nico said. “I suck at it.”

Minos laughed, which let Nico know he agreed with that evaluation.

“I would if I could,” Minos said. “But it came from experience. Something you don't have yet.”

“You must know some tips or something,” Nico said.

“Maybe,” Minos said. “One thing that helps is asking questions. What do they most want? And what is their fatal flaw? Those two things are always in conflict.”

“Can you give an example?” Nico asked, curious.

“Me, for example,” Minos said. “I wanted my father to reward me with immortality. When I knew I was close to achieving it, I grew cocky and offended Poseidon. In scrambling to regain my honor, I made things worse. My hubris led to my downfall.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

“Many demigods want their parents' approval above all else, but battle with hubris as they grow in strength,” Minos said. “It's because they feel so much more powerful than normal humans, and yet so much weaker than a god. You're pulled in two different directions.”

“I don't have that problem at all,” Nico said. “I don't care what my dad thinks of me. And I feel like I'm a giant loser most of the time, so hubris isn't a thing.”

“You're far from a giant loser,” Minos said. “I also don't think you're that indifferent to your father's opinions. But I agree that it isn't your primary motivation.”

“So you already know what my fatal flaw is? What is it?”

“Ahem,” Hades said, suddenly appearing in the doorway. “I hear too much talking and not enough clanging.” His arms were folded, and his brows were drawn down in an expression of disapproval.

“Sorry, Lord Hades,” Minos said. “I'll try harder to keep him on task.”

Hades stood and observed Nico's practice for a while, and the more he watched, the more skeptical he appeared.

“Unimpressive,” he said. “Work harder.”

Then he left.

Nico and Minos exchanged looks of relief when he'd gone.

“He gave me a very stern lecture about you after our last practice,” Minos said.

“Again?” Nico said, horrified. “I'm sorry. I don't know why he's like that.”

“He thinks I'm trying to gain your trust in order to manipulate you into hunting down Daedalus for me,” Minos said.

“Daedalus? You've never even mentioned him,” Nico said.

“He's my arch nemesis,” Minos said. “Or, he was. But I told Hades, even if I intended to do that, there would be no point. If you can't even face a manticore, Daedulus would be hopelessly beyond your capability. Just being honest,” he shrugged.

Nico sighed.

“True,” he said. “But how is Daedalus still alive? That shouldn't be possible.”

“I don't know, but he's never shown up here. Not even once,” Minos said. “I've tried to get Hades or Thanatos to hunt for him, but they don't have time.”

“If I hear anything about him, I'll let you know,” Nico said. “But I wouldn't get your hopes up.”

“He'll be found eventually,” Minos said. “I'll bide. Anyway, regardless of the validity of his reasons, your father is trying to protect you. He doesn't trust me. I respect that, even if I wish it were otherwise.”

“I'm old enough to decide who to trust,” Nico said stubbornly. He was pretty sure he was, anyway. He didn't actually know how old he was, but that was irrelevant.

“You did say earlier that you suck at reading people,” Minos said.

“Well, yeah, but,” Nico stammered. “You're nice. I like you,” he said, trying to will himself not to blush and failing miserably.

“I like you too,” Minos said. “But this is the kind of thing I have been ordered not to talk to you about, and I must obey Lord Hades. Let's focus on training from now on, shall we?”

Nico tried to engage him a couple more times, but Minos was, once again, strictly professional with him. He hated it, but there was nothing he could do.

Nico, again, grew really sick and tired of the practicing, but he tried to push through, because he knew he would be forced to keep doing it until he'd made up for what he'd missed by not going to camp. The campers weren't particularly disciplined, so that was a reasonable goal and shouldn't take long, but even so, it grated on him.

Minos tried to offset his frustration by switching the weapons to spears and showing him an entirely new set of moves, but Nico still felt understimulated and short-tempered. He didn't want to act like a brat in front of Minos, but his responses got snippier and his energy waned.

“There,” Minos said, setting down his spear. “I think it's time for a break. The only thing more important than practicing, after all, is not practicing.”

“Not practicing?” Nico said, dropping the spear and backing away from it like it was covered in spiders. He was really ready to be done. “What does that mean?”

“It means it's important to take breaks.”

“Oh.”

“I didn't come up with that,” Minos said. “My son's trainer said it to me once. I never forgot it.” He sighed. “Tychon. He was a wise man. He tried to help me when...” He trailed off, remembering.

“When?” Nico prompted, excited to get to talk about something interesting once more, and not stupid instructions on how to hold a spear. There were endless opportunities to make spear talk flirtatious, but Minos had missed all of them.

“My son Androgeos was killed in a bullfight,” Minos said flatly. “I didn't handle it well and I took it out on Tychon, saying he hadn't trained him well enough. It was unfair. Tychon loved Androgeos far more than I did. He trained him for the Panathenaic games, and he won.”

“That's impressive,” Nico said. He hadn't really intended to make Minos open up about his dead son, but Minos was a shade, so it wasn't as awkward discussing it with someone whose emotions had been blunted by death, as well as thousands of years of distance.

“We went to watch him compete at the games as a family,” Minos said. “Cheering for him in the stands and watching him win was probably one of our last good times together before things started falling apart. Before I started falling apart, I guess.”

“So it was your son's death that caused you to start changing for the worse?”

“I wish I could blame it on him, but no,” Minos said. “My hubris was always a part of me, and there were other factors besides his death. It's just easier to fake being a good person when your life is going well.”

“You weren't faking,” Nico said. “This is you. Who you always were,” he said.

“I know,” Minos said. “I didn't phrase that well. I don't actually believe in good and bad people. I simply judge based on actions,” he clarified. “Most souls, like mine, are benign and even pleasant to deal with. You'd be surprised how many of the sweetest shades did terrible things in the world of the living. Circumstances can corrupt even the purest. Few are strong enough to overcome their context. Those that do, end up in Elysium.”

“Is that how you decide who goes where?” Nico asked. “I've been wondering.”

“That's one factor,” Minos said. “It's difficult to articulate my decision process. I won't bore you with it. You should rest, and I ought to return to my post. Really rest this time,” he added. “You're still alive. It's important that you take care of yourself.”

Nico was disappointed not to keep talking about something he found so interesting, but he decided to obey his trainer and go take a nap. This time, there were no dreams, just a deep sleep.

He awoke to a soft shuffling noise. He sat up, and saw that Hades had quietly slipped into his room and was standing by his bookshelf.

“Papa?” He asked, yawning. “What are you doing in here?”

Hades looked unhappy at being caught.

“I'm setting something on your shelf, and then I'm leaving,” he said. “Goodbye.”

“What are you setting on the shelf?” Nico asked before Hades could disappear again.

Hades frowned and handed Nico three small photographs. They were slightly worn black and white photographs of Maria di Angelo.

Nico gasped.

“You've had these all this time?” He asked, flipping through them. He'd seen them before, recognizing one from his nonna's family photo wall at her house and the other two from an old photo album of his mom's.

“I had Thanatos steal them from your grandmother's house when he collected her soul back in the sixties,” Hades said. “On a whim. I have no use for them, so you may as well keep them.”

“You can see Mama anytime in Elysium,” Nico said, seeing through him. “Did you take these for Bianca and I? Were you going to give them to us?”

“Not necessarily,” Hades said. “I may have used them as leverage in order to get you to do something. I have enough leverage over you anyway, now, so they aren't useful any longer.”

“Mhm,” Nico said, smiling and looking at the photos again.

“I'm not doing this to be nice,” Hades said. “I wouldn't reward you for nothing. It's bad parenting. I just want these somewhere Persephone won't find them and ask questions.”

“Don't worry,” Nico said. “I'd never accuse you of being nice.”

“Good,” Hades said. “Fine. I'm done speaking with you. Go back to sleep.”

Nico smiled and looked at the photos fondly, remembering better days, and went back to sleep as he was told.

When he awoke, he had a feeling his father wanted him to read again, and he found him in the baths and read to him once more. He pitched the podcast idea, but Hades wasn't interested. He trained with Minos again, and once again was frustrated by his total refusal to flirt. He went and helped Hecate with potions, and he exhausted himself attempting to memorize spells in Ancient Greek, and he stared at the lunula necklaces on the shelf and he thought about Bianca. He was doing it for her, he told himself. All of this work was for her sake, and it was going to pay off. He had to believe that.

The routine repeated itself over and over, and sometimes he ate and slept and bathed, but there was no sense of time passing until one day, he walked into the palace and felt that something had changed.

He looked around, but his father was nowhere to be seen. The cold black walls echoed with his footsteps, and he peered around every corner, looking for the source of the different-ness.

“Nico?” A familiar voice called out.

Chapter Text

He turned around and saw Persephone with her arms outstretched, and he ran to meet her.

She smelled like sunlight and flowers and happiness. She squeezed him so tightly that he thought his ribs would crack, and it was literally the best thing ever. She looked resplendent in a deep red dress the color of pomegranates, with her dark hair piled on top of her head and secured with a matching red ribbon and pins topped with rubies. She was like a brilliant explosion of rich color in the greyscale world Nico had inhabited for so many months, and it filled him with joy just to behold her.

“I thought about you every day while I was on the surface,” she said, brushing his hair back from his face and kissing both his cheeks. “I want to hear everything you've been doing. Your father says you've been training? How is your chores list going? Have you made any progress on helping your sister?”

She and Nico sat in the dining room and talked for what felt like mere moments, although Nico guessed it was probably a very long stretch of time that simply passed unheeded. He told her everything, holding nothing back, even telling her about Minos and how he felt about him. He didn't hesitate, he just spilled everything that was in his heart, the way he always had with Bianca.

“But Papa is really against us even getting to know each other, let alone, you know,” Nico admitted. “Maybe I'm just being stupid.”

“You are very young,” she said, patting his hand. “But... I'll talk to him. We'll see.”

“You don't think it's weird that I have a crush on a ghost?” Nico asked.

“Minos isn't a normal ghost,” she said. “He came very close to becoming a god once. Having fallen short of that, he's still a valued member of our team. I'm no more surprised at your liking him than I would be if you said you liked Hypnos or Hecate.”

“Or Thanatos,” Nico said.

“That's how I know you haven't met Thanatos,” she said. “He doesn't like anyone.”

“No, I haven't met him,” Nico said. “His name just popped into my head for some reason.”

“So is this your first crush?” She asked eagerly. “I find that so precious.”

“Maybe my first adult crush,” Nico admitted. “I liked this boy back at Westover and had a meltdown because I realized I was gay. I told Bianca everything, and she had to console me. She was the best,” he sighed, his heart aching with love for his sister.

“Why did she have to console you? Isn't it normal for boys to have crushes on each other at that age?” Persephone asked.

“I guess it is, but at the time I felt like a freak of nature. On the surface, people sometimes have messed up opinions about that stuff,” Nico said. “But nobody down here even knows about that, so I guess it doesn't matter now. Um, anyway. Enough about me. How were spring and summer? I want to know what it was like, since I missed it this year.”

He listened to her talk for hours, but he wouldn't have minded if she talked for days. She described for him in rich detail the blossoms on the cherry trees in Kyoto, the vibrant colors of the tulips in the Netherlands, the intoxicating scent of the lavender fields of Provence, and the bountiful harvests that her fields had yielded all over the world. She went on and on, and Nico lost himself in listening to her speak, seeing everything in his mind's eye like he'd been there. The only reason they stopped talking was because his father swept in.

“Persephone,” he said gently, taking his wife's hand. “The boy has nothing of interest to share with you; I think you've talked more than enough. You've only just gotten back after so long, and already you've left me by myself again. Have I not spent enough time alone these past six months?”

“If you're lonely, sit and talk with us,” Persephone said. “Nico is very interesting if you give him a chance. And he's been here to keep you company, you haven't been alone like usual. I thought I told you to spend time with him. Did you not?” She asked suspiciously.

“He's hardly a replacement for you. Nico, go and occupy yourself elsewhere for a few hours,” Hades said, grabbing Persephone by the waist and pulling her back towards their bedroom.

Nico stood and began to shadow travel away, thinking that he couldn't possibly get out of the palace fast enough, if he was reading the room correctly. But Persephone grabbed his wrist and stopped him from leaving.

“No,” she said to Hades firmly. “I want the three of us to talk. I insist.”

Hades sat at the table, looking slightly embarrassed at his failure to monopolize his wife's attention. If Nico wasn't mistaken, he thought his father might have been a little jealous of him.

Nico refrained from rolling his eyes. Persephone's interest in Nico was surely just a passing whim. The least his father could do was let him enjoy it while it lasted.

“What sort of abilities do you have in combat? And outside of it?” Persephone asked, suddenly growing serious. “You mentioned the manticore-- Do you feel ready to face it again?”

“Um, yeah. I'm not going to embarrass myself again like before,” Nico said. “That was just because I was rusty, I think. I can shadow travel and summon skeletons and turn invisible with these,” he said, tapping his earrings. “Minos says I should be fine on defense, so long as I react quickly.”

“Your father texted me about your earrings. I'm thrilled you have them,” she smiled, her warm brown eyes glowing with pride. “I trust you to use them responsibly. But what about offense?”

“I'm working on it,” he said. “I'm not a natural with the sword or spear. It still feels awkward, but I think I'm making progress.”

“And your magic?”

“I haven't been able to do anything impressive. I've studied really hard, but Hecate says it's about willpower, and it's not going to be obvious whether my work has paid off until I'm using it in a real world scenario.”

“That's true,” Persephone said. “But you feel comfortable with the incantations themselves? You'll remember in your time of need?”

“Yes. I practice all the time. I'm good at memorization.”

“That is true,” Hades said. “I often notice him reading certain passages of the Divine Comedy aloud without looking at the page. I have not yet heard an error.”

Persephone's eyes lit up.

“You're reading together! That's wonderful news,” she said. “And you haven't been arguing anymore?”

Nico and Hades both refrained from answering. She laughed.

“Alright, maybe that was a little optimistic. Still. I'm proud of you both for making the effort, as I'd asked you to. Nico, I think you've earned a little gift. Something to make your sword practice easier. Perhaps more intuitive?”

“You don't mean... Persephone,” Hades said. “He's got the earrings already. He's more well outfitted than many demigods with those alone.”

“Don't be so conservative,” Persephone chided him. “What are you holding back for? He's the only child you have left. Let's lavish gifts on him while he yet lives, for Olympus' sake! Nico, grab your practice sword.”

When Nico had fetched the sword and returned, she took Hades' hand and beckoned for Nico to follow. The three of them marched down to the banks of the Styx, the shades of Asphodel stepping aside and bowing to make way for her. Nico smiled to himself; he'd only ever seen them shrink from Hades. They must have loved Persephone just as much as he did.

The three judges on the dais also bowed respectfully to their Queen when she arrived, and she greeted each of them individually.

While she was chatting with them, Hades was drawing up metal from the earth, using the practice sword as a guide to form the new metal into the same shape. Eventually the metal of the practice sword fell away and was replaced by the new ore.

“I've been saving this,” Hades said. “Don't make me regret giving it to you.”

“What was that, my love?” Persephone asked, coming up behind him and putting a hand on his back.

“Nothing, dear,” Hades muttered.

Nico watched in rapt silence as Hades forged the sword in his hand. It wasn't a fast process, although he was probably the only one who noticed it taking a while. Persephone hummed happily over Hades' shoulder, watching her husband work with a pleased smile on her face.

“How do you do that?” Nico asked eventually, seeing the metal folding over itself and then flattening out, the pattern repeating again and again. “Make it so flexible and smooth?”

“Practice,” Hades muttered.

Nico studied what he was doing carefully. Then he glanced at the discarded metal on the ground.

“This is just scrap, right?”

“Mhm,” Hades muttered. “Stop distracting me.”

Nico reached out and picked up the metal, flattening it out in his hand. That wasn't so hard. Mashing it flat was easy, it was just force. Then he fiddled with it for a few minutes until it was twisted over itself, forming a corkscrew. He bent it into the shape of a bracelet and put it in his pocket, then went back to watching his father.

Hades was wrapping up the forging process, if it could be called that.

“Nico,” he said, holding out the hilt of the sword, now shining in jet black.

“Be careful,” Persephone said. “Don't touch the blade.”

Hades checked that Nico was gripping the hilt firmly, then pointed at the water of the Styx.

“I just dip it in?” Nico asked.

“Hurry,” Hades said, nudging him toward the water.

Nico stared down at the familiar dark, churning water for a second, then submerged most of the blade in, kneeling on the bone gravel shore. The water was moving up and down and splashing the edges of his shoes; he tried to shuffle backwards.

Hades put a hand on his back, preventing him from retreating. He put his other hand overtop Nico's on the sword hilt, and shoved Nico's hands under the water.

Nico gasped the second the water splashed his hands, but Hades didn't let him pull back. It felt like burning ice, like a deep ache of cold, even more intense than the manticore venom, and worse because the movement of the water meant the sensation came and went unexpectedly.

He gritted his teeth and tried to ignore it. It was horrible pain, but it must be harmless, or Persephone would have protested by now. After a moment, the pain became familiar, and he started to be okay with it. It was just the Styx, after all, and he was a child of the Underworld. It caused a lot of pain, but it was just powerful, not dangerous. It felt as though the Styx itself were reassuring him it was okay with what he was doing, and it was trying not to hurt him too badly.

Finally, Hades pulled him back, and the pain in his hands stopped. In his hands was a Stygian iron blade, black as a nightmare.

“Stygian iron,” Hades said. “It destroys the essence of things. This is no Celestial bronze. It will obliterate whatever it touches. It is meant for Underworld purposes, for fights where death is not victory enough.”

Nico held it away from himself, his eyes growing wide.

“You can touch it, you've earned it from the river,” Hades scoffed. “Go on.”

Nico touched the blade and felt it sucking at the essence of his soul, trying to pull him somewhere. It seemed to stop when it realized who he was.

“I'm so proud of you, darling,” Persephone said, kissing his cheek. A crown of black poppies appeared on top of her head. “Ah,” she said, reaching out and touching them. “I've never made these before. I like them!”

“They look lovely on you,” Hades said. “As does everything. And nothing. Speaking of which, we should go now.”

She laughed, standing on her tiptoes to kiss Hades on the lips.

“Thank you for indulging me, husband,” she said, as he put his arm around her shoulders. “Nico, I trust you'll be responsible with that?” She said, looking back at him.

“Yes, I will,” he said. He couldn't imagine what he'd use it on. He hadn't even been asked to kill the manticore, let alone obliterate its essence. He could see why his father had hesitated to give him this weapon of incredible destructive potential. “I can't thank you enough for this gift. I'll try to make you proud. Both of you,” he added, looking at his father, too.

They both disappeared into shadow, and he looked down at the sword, staring at it in fascination. The three judges walked up to look at it along with him.

“I've never seen anyone but Lord Hades wield such a thing,” Aeacus said. “And you're so inexperienced! I wonder what Persephone was thinking.”

“If anyone knows to use caution when taking a life, it's Nico,” Minos said. “He understands the gravity of what he holds.”

“I wish I didn't,” Nico agreed. “Am I right in thinking I can't train with you if I use this?”

The judges all backed away.

“Well, no,” Minos said. “You'd destroy me. I'd rather you didn't. I'm having a pretty good afterlife, for the most part. There's only one shade that I think would want to train you with that thing, and I'm not sure I can convince him to come out. Aeacus, you're better with him than I am,” Minos said, “What do you think?”

“I have a few favors I could cash in in Elysium,” Aeacus said archly. “But I don't think I will waste them on this. Ask me again in a hundred years, maybe I'll relent.”

Minos looked at Nico apologetically, shrugging.

“That thing belongs in a scabbard or something,” Rhadamanthys said nervously, his eyes not leaving the blade.

“Lord Hades turns his into a ring,” Aeacus said.

“Oh, is that what that is?” Nico asked. “I've seen him summon it once. He waves his hand--” He stepped back a few feet, to the ghosts' great relief, before moving the sword an inch. He waved his hand over it, and it turning into a shining black ring. “Hm. That was so much easier than the bracelet.”

“I saw you make that,” Minos said. “You never mentioned anything about earth or metal manipulation.”

“I've done stuff here and there,” Nico shrugged, thinking with chagrin about the crack he'd left in the floor of the pavilion at Camp Half Blood. He pulled the bracelet from his pocket and ran his thumbs over it, massaging it into a semblance of a pattern on its curved surface. “Here,” he said impulsively, holding it out to Minos. “For training me. Thank you.”

Minos stared at it in awe. His brothers snickered behind him, but he took no notice.

“I'm the one that should be giving you gifts,” he said. “But... I appreciate it.” He accepted the bracelet and let Nico slip it on his wrist.

Nico marveled at how lifelike his hand seemed as he touched it, the bracelet a perfect excuse. It was ice cold, of course, but so was everything in the Underworld. If he didn't know better, he'd never know Minos was dead.

With the training over, and Persephone on his side, Nico felt more confident that he had a shot. He caught Minos's eye and smiled, and Minos smiled back.

“Alright,” Aeacus said grumpily, leaning on his elbow and frowning at Nico. “Let me cut you a deal.”

Nico looked up at him.

“A deal?”

“I'll arrange things with your new trainer if you get me that minifridge I asked about before. It has to come fully stocked!

“Oh, good, just in time for the busy season. Would sure be nice to have a cool beverage at hand when we're working overtime,” Rhadamanthys said.

Nico looked at Aeacus skeptically.

“Who is this trainer, anyway?”

Aeacus started to respond, but Minos stopped him.

“Let it be a surprise, Nico,” Minos said. “Trust me.”

Nico wasn't in any hurry to train more than he already had. The manticore was a dangerous beast, but the delays were getting a bit frustrating; he knew he was ready to face it again and fetch those spines. After that, he still had to save his sister and finish his chores, and time was passing quickly.

“I'm not waiting on him,” Nico said. “I can deal with the manticore on my own now. I'll train with the dude if I have time, I guess.”

“You'll have time,” Aeacus said, smirking.

“Fine. Fridge time?” Nico asked.

“Yes,” the three said in unison, brightening considerably.

Nico, after a brief Google, shadow traveled to a random Home Depot in Idaho, walked in, and slapped his hands on a minifridge next to the checkout counter. It had the Pepsi logo emblazoned across it and was filled with sodas and iced teas. In seconds he'd returned to the Underworld with it.

“Here you go,” he said, to a chorus of cheers. It had been so easy to fetch it that he wondered why Hades hadn't gotten them one before.

They situated it beside their table, talking excitedly about whether an amphora of wine might fit inside it. Nico watched them for a few minutes, wondering where they planned to plug it in, when he realized that they had no idea that was a thing. Rhadamanthys actually sawed the power cord off with his belt knife and tossed it into the Styx.

“That looks much better,” he said, his fellow judges nodding their agreement.

“Halt!” A grating voice shrieked. It was Alecto, flying up to them on her leathery wings and planting herself firmly in front of the table, her hands crossed in front of her chest. “That fridge is not regulation!”

The four of them started arguing loudly, and Nico quietly stepped away and shadow traveled to Hecate's cave, intending to show her the new sword and ask about its magical properties.

“Hecate? I have a surprise,” He called out.

“Me too!” Hecate said, her voice calling from the far side of the cave. “Come check this out,” she said.

He wandered over to the work table, but she was actually bundled up in her bed instead. Nico walked over to her.

His jaw dropped.

“What the heck is that thing?” He said, pointing at the small bundle in her arms.

“That's my son,” she said, holding out the baby so that Nico was looking at his small pink face. “Say hi to him!”

Nico knew Hecate was a little weird and unpredictable, but this was really on another level.

“Hi,” he said awkwardly. “Uh, wow. I had no idea you were expecting... Congratulations?”

“Thanks,” she said. “Pregnancy is a bit inconvenient, even for a goddess, so I don't let it drag on for too long. But I do like babies. They're best when they're fresh. I just want to gobble him up!” She said.

Nico watched tensely to make sure she wasn't actually going to eat the baby, but she just smooched him on the top of his head.

“Don't look so weirded out. You know I'm a goddess of childbirth sometimes. Not to mention I'm a protector of children,” she laughed. “I didn't come into the titles with no qualifications. Haven't you met some of my other kids?”

He'd met an entire cabin full of them already, all close in age. She must have been having kids often, but he'd never pictured them being born in the Underworld, even on the outskirts of it where her cave was located. He wondered if he now knew more about their origins than they did.

“What's his name?” Nico asked.

“I try to let the mortal parents name them,” Hecate said. “Ever since my son Alabaster chewed me out for having unorthodox naming preferences. I've been told that his name got him made fun of in school. I can't help it! Don't you think this one looks like he ought to be called Cobweb?”

“You want to name him Cobweb?” Nico said, horrified.

She sighed in disappointment.

“Your facial expression tells me all I need to know,” she said, looking down at the baby. “Sorry, Cobweb. You'll probably end up being something normal like Philip or Tim. A missed opportunity.”

“When are you giving him to his dad?” Nico asked.

“Soon,” she said. “I'll feed him a couple more times to make him strong. Then I'll head over to Matt's house and leave him a little surprise,” she smiled. “I'm sure he'll be thrilled.”

He watched Hecate playing with her baby and marveled at how different it was for mortals to have children. He was no expert on parenting, but he knew that he and Bianca had been their mother's entire world. She'd doted on them constantly. He recalled her breaking down in tears on his first day of school when she had to let go of his hand and leave him with his teacher. He'd been wailing and screaming hysterically, begging her not to leave him, which had probably made it much worse than it needed to be for his poor mother.

Almost ninety years later, he thought, and he hadn't changed a bit.

Hecate, on the other hand, would send this baby on its way in a matter of hours and would rarely speak to him ever again. He was used to giving gods the benefit of the doubt, and he knew they were fundamentally different than humans in ways he couldn't possibly understand, but it was hard not to feel a little judge-y about this in particular. Even Hades had at least visited him and Bianca regularly.

“Do you agree with that Percy kid? That we should be more involved?” Hecate asked.

“What about Percy?” Nico asked, snapping out of his reverie.

“When he defeated Kronos, Zeus offered him a boon. Percy asked, in lieu of immortality, that the gods acknowledge all their demigod children before they turn thirteen.”

“That's what he picked?” Nico frowned. “Interesting.”

“There's a whole backstory to it. You slept through a lot,” she said. “Answer me. Do you think I should be more involved in Cobweb's life?”

Nico sensed a test in that question, although she was trying to sound casual about it. He had to think for a minute, then he answered.

“You said earlier that one of your divine roles is being a protector of children. If that's the case, I don't think you need to be told how to parent by Percy Jackson. Or me.”

He wasn't sure that was the most totally honest answer, but it was technically true, and it sounded respectful. She seemed really pleased to hear it, which was all that mattered in the end.

“Good job, di Angelo,” she smiled warmly at him. “You're right. What I do, I do for my own reasons. There's no need for anyone else to understand. Right, Cobweb?” She cooed at her small demigod son. “Nico, be a dear and do me a favor. Take those lunula necklaces to Artemis, would you?”

She looked up at him with a bright green glint in her eye, and he sensed clearly that she knew exactly what he had been thinking all of those days at the workbench, looking up at the necklaces in their jars.

“I-- Yes, absolutely,” he said. “Of course. Thank you so much!”

“Tell her I'm busy and that you go with my blessing,” she said.

“Thank you so much, Hecate,” he repeated. She nodded, and he hurried over to the bookshelf, grabbing the jars.

“Do I take them out?”

“Leave them in the jars,” she said. “Don't shadow travel with them, it's bad for the magic. Walk straight out the door and call Charon. Ask him to take you up the Acheron until you get to the Necromanteion exit. I'll text her to meet you there.”

Chapter Text

Nico was really excited at his new chance to meet Artemis, but he was also panicking. He hadn't rehearsed what he was going to say to her, and his mind was blank.

He walked out the doorway of Hecate's cave; he'd never walked there before, just shadow traveled, but he knew the river in front of him was the Acheron. It was wider and less deep than the others, and the shore here was a mix of smooth stones and sand. The air that flowed in with the river smelled fresh and organic, like the mortal world was close at hand.

Juggling the jars awkwardly, he pulled out his phone. He was sure he didn't have Charon's number, but he checked just in case.

“Charon, Charon,” he muttered. “No, I don't see it. Oh!”

Charon had appeared in front of him, a tall, looming figure in black rags. His boat was behind him, bobbing on the surface of the Acheron.

“She meant to just literally call you out loud,” Nico said, realizing.

Charon nodded, his broad brimmed hat dipping forward.

Nico hopped into the boat, and Charon took his post at the front, guiding the boat out to the center of the water. They began to float in the direction of the surface.

“Thank you for the ride,” Nico said, smiling at Charon. He liked the grimy, decaying skeleton man. He was quiet and reliable and he had really good vibes.

Nico sat and enjoyed the boat ride. The Acheron gradually widened, and the boat slid over the shallow, sandy bottom even when most boats would have gotten stuck. They traveled through the winding cave passage hollowed out by the river. Eventually there was light in the distance, but they didn't proceed towards it, instead docking at a set of stairs leading upward into a dark passage.

“The necromanteion?” Nico asked. Another nod. He collected his jars and climbed the stairs.

He passed through stone walled corridors that twisted and turned like a maze. Everything was eerily quiet. Nico was used to quiet, but this particular brand of quiet unsettled him. He realized it was because he should have been able to hear the river and he couldn't. The exit had sealed itself off behind him.

He felt shades lurking in the corners watching him. One approached, a brave one in the form of a middle aged woman in an ancient Greek dress.

“Hi,” he said. “What's the story with this place? I've come across the name in passing, but I'm not an expert. I know it's a temple of Hades.”

“It is indeed,” she said. “It was a place where worshippers traveled to commune with the spirits of those who'd gone before them.”

“Why are you all hanging around here?”

“I can't speak for the others,” she said. “But I was summoned here by my husband. I don't know if it was his fault or the priest's, but the ritual was botched and I got stranded. I was in Asphodel and then suddenly I was here.”

“That's awful,” Nico said.

“It is awful,” she agreed. “I was content in the fields, waiting for my children to join me. Now I'm stuck here, and they're probably there by now, wondering where I am. My only solace in death was seeing them again, and I was robbed of it. What did I do to deserve this?”

Nico's gut twisted with a deep and intolerable sense of wrongness. He knew that there were supposedly shades lost all over the earth who'd been lost or summoned like this one. Mortals spotted ghosts all the time, and Nico hadn't heard his father mention anyone going to fetch them back. It technically should have been Thanatos' job, he guessed.

Nico couldn't just sit and do nothing. This woman was on the doorstep of the Underworld; it was unacceptable that she be stranded so near where she was meant to be. He couldn't imagine how frustrating that must have been for her.

“What's your name?”

“Lyside.”

“Lyside, I'm going to help you find your way back,” Nico said. “I've got something I need to do first, but I'll come back for you.”

“Mmhm. Sure,” she said, unconvinced.

“Just wait and see,” he said.

He proceeded onward through a room with a pattern on the floor made of inlaid bones and gems and past a set of doors, climbing upwards. At some point, electric lights had been added here. He stopped and read a sign affixed to a wall and realized his father's temple had become a tourist site. No one was there at the moment, however.

He proceeded to the exit, his heart pounding with anticipation.

No wonder the temple was deserted; there was a thunderstorm raging outside. He glanced around, looking for the glow of moonlight radiating from a young girl, but Artemis was nowhere to be seen. He ducked back inside the temple and waited. And waited. He slumped down against the wall and looked at the jars. They both glowed with a pale white light, the silver lunulas gleaming brightly.

He remembered the first time he'd seen Bianca wearing her lunula amulet. She'd been gleaming with fresh immortality, moving with an unfamiliar confidence and grace. She'd even styled her hair differently, sporting a fancy multi-strand French braid the other hunters had plaited for her. That had bothered him more than anything else, because she'd often asked him to help braid her hair and he'd never been good at it. The new braid had driven the point in like a nail; she was starting a new journey, and she'd traded in the annoying kid brother for the cool older sisters she'd probably always wanted.

“Was it worth it?” He said bitterly, speaking to the lunula in the jar. There was no answer.

After a little while, a shadow appeared in the doorway. The figure was hunched over, soaked from the wind and rain.

He scrambled to his feet, preparing to greet Artemis.

A young woman ducked inside the entrance to the Necromanteion. She lowered her hood, dripping water all over the floor.

“You,” he said, stopping short.

Thalia Grace stood before him. She had the same choppy black hair and blue eyes he remembered. She looked like her father. It didn't give him a good feeling about seeing her again.

“Do I know you?” She asked, reaching back and holding her bow, ready for anything.

“It's Nico di Angelo,” he said.

Her eyes widened in surprise. She wasn't rocking as much eyeliner as before; Artemis probably liked her crew to have a more natural look. “Has it been that long? You're tall now.”

The last time he'd seen her, she'd seemed like a cool, tough, older girl. Now, although she looked stronger, with a supernatural glow and a wired alertness about her, she seemed like a middle schooler, eternally fifteen. He was about six inches taller than her, which hadn't been the case before.

Was this how it would have been with Bianca? Him endlessly getting older, her staying the same? Every time he saw her, the distance between them greater?

She'd chosen that, he reminded himself.

He shoved that thought to the back of his mind, refusing to think about it.

“Were you her replacement?” He asked dryly.

“Her replacement? Oh, you mean...” Thalia's expression grew defensive. “I'm sorry about what happened to Bianca. But it was a long time ago.”

She reached out for the jars, and he held them behind his back.

“Not to me,” he said.

She stared at him.

“I don't know what you want from me, but I need those necklaces,” she said sternly.

“I need to speak with Artemis.”

“Why? If it's about her funeral rites, we made sure--”

“I know you did them,” Nico snapped. “That's not what this is about. I'm going to resurrect her. I need Artemis' help.”

Thalia just stared at him. A strange mix of emotions passed over her face; pity, secondhand embarrassment, and a little bit of fear. She was soaking wet, her hair a mess and her cheeks red from wind, but she still looked more put together and healthy than he probably did. He saw himself briefly through her eyes; pale white, strung out, and way too skinny. Not a look that inspired confidence.

“I feel bad for you, Nico, but you're fucking crazy,” she said bluntly. “Have you tried therapy? You need it.”

“I'm not crazy. I'm taking my time, learning everything I need to know. Talking to the right people. I'm the son of Hades. If anyone can do this, I can.”

“I don't know about that,” Thalia said, narrowing her eyes skeptically and looking him over. She clearly didn't think he was capable. That stung.

“Look at how old I am now,” Nico said. “You can see how long I've been down there. If it were really impossible, don't you think I'd have realized by now?”

“No, not if you're fucking crazy. Which is what you probably are, like I said. They have therapy on apps now,” she added. “I'm so serious, just download it. It'll take five seconds.”

“Why would my father put up with me if I was crazy? Does that sound like something Hades would do? Would Zeus ever cut you slack like that?”

“No,” she said, beginning to look at him differently.

“No. I'm working down there, doing tasks for my father, and in exchange he's letting me look into this,” Nico said. He took a deep breath and looked Thalia in the eyes. “Listen to me. Please. Bianca was one of you once. But she died before she could even begin. If I'm willing to do the hard part and resurrect her, the least you could do is hear me out. All I ask is one conversation with Artemis. That doesn't cost you anything! You know Bianca would want you to help me. Even if it's just out of pity for her crazy brother.”

Bianca heaved a sigh.

Nico didn't have a response, so he just stared at Thalia. He could see her start to grow uncomfortable under his gaze. Another power he could chalk up to being a child of Hades, he thought. He hoped it would work. They stared at each other intensely as the storm raged just outside the temple archway.

“Fine,” she said, sighing like she'd just lost an internal battle with herself. “But don't act like a dumbass in front of Artemis. You'd better have a real plan and not just be bullshitting.”

“Okay. Thanks,” he said. “You've got nothing to worry about. I know what I'm doing.” He tried to sound confident and cool, but he wasn't sure it was effective. Thalia still looked unsure about him.

“Our camp is at a lake near here. We're hunting a dragon,” Thalia said. “Don't get in the way of the hunt, and if Artemis says no, get the fuck out, immediately. Cool?”

“Cool,” Nico said.

“It's a bit of a hike,” Thalia said. “I hope you've been doing your Underworld cardio.”

They stepped out into the storm. The wind was so intense that it blew the rain directly into Nico's face, and he could barely see anything. Seeing in the dark was easy for him, but this wasn't the same thing. In the chaos of the storm, Thalia's huntress-glow was the clearest thing he could make out, and he knew he'd get lost if he didn't follow her.

She took off at a jog, and Nico scrambled to follow her. He wasn't able to keep up, probably because he absolutely had not been doing Underworld cardio, since there wasn't any such thing. He was way too accustomed to shadow traveling everywhere, and it was really bothering him that he wasn't able to while he was holding the lunulae.

The wind was screeching, and lightning flashed in the distance, sending a horrible chill down Nico's spine. He had a brief, intense realization that Zeus might be watching him right now, and it came on so suddenly and clearly that he felt absolutely certain it was true.

Shortly after realizing, he tripped over a log and nearly dropped one of the lunula jars.

“Give me those, you're gonna drop them,” Thalia said.

“Nope,” he said, holding them away from her and frowning. “Not falling for that.”

“I'm a hunter of Artemis, not a thief,” she said, offended.

“I said no,” he said. At the end of the day, she was a daughter of Zeus and an Olympian affiliate. He wasn't going to fully trust her until she'd earned it. Zeus's divine eyes on him made him feel paranoid.

“Ugh. Fine,” she said, frustrated. “We can walk, but you'd better be careful.”

He followed her, the pace more reasonable now. Unfortunately, going slower meant he noticed the storm and the lightning more than ever.

“Why are you taking such deep breaths,” she asked. “Don't tell me it's still too fast? I'm practically crawling.”

“No, I'm just... I don't like this kind of weather,” he said. He remembered the first really nasty storm at Camp Half Blood, when he'd still been living in the Hermes cabin, unclaimed. Chiron had insisted campers keep to their normal schedule despite the terrible weather, for conditioning, but Nico had skipped the whole day, hiding under his covers in his bunk and pretending to be sick to get out of it.

At the time, he hadn't remembered why he hated lightning. Now, the reason was all too clear.

“What, rain?”

“Lightning storms,” he said. “My mother was killed by one of your father's lightning bolts.”

Thalia stared at him.

“What? Why?”

“He wanted to kill me and Bianca,” Nico said. “My father managed to save us, but he didn't get my mother out in time. Your dad wanted to be sure that one of his kids would be the child of the prophecy.”

“I see,” Thalia said, looking uncomfortable. “This was back in the forties, right?”

“It feels like yesterday to me,” Nico said firmly.

“I get that,” she said. “Sorry,” she added in a lower voice. “If it makes you feel better, I can control lightning. I won't let it get near you. Not that I think my dad would try to hit you or anything, but--”

“I think he would,” Nico said. “What's he got to lose? My father already hates him. I'd be one less problem.” He knew Zeus was listening, knew it in his bones. Thalia looked up at the sky, and he realized she knew it, too.

“Maybe we shouldn't talk about this,” she said quietly, climbing uphill a little faster. “Let's hurry and get to Artemis. So, um, how is it, working in the Underworld? How is Bianca? Is she also on board with this resurrection thing?”

“Why wouldn't she be?” Nico said, knowing better than to admit she wasn't speaking to him. “Wouldn't you want to be?”

“No, definitely not,” Thalia said. “I'd want to be legit reborn, starting from scratch. I like the idea of earning an honored spot in the Isles of the Blessed. Have you seen them?”

“Haven't made the trip,” Nico said. “Elysium ought to be good enough for anyone, in my opinion.”

“I guess it doesn't matter to me now,” Thalia said. “I don't have plans to die anytime soon. Not that immortality means something can't still happen,” she added quickly. “But, you know, I probably have time.”

“Probably,” Nico said.

“I want to tell you something,” she said, looking at Nico. They'd climbed up the side of a ridge, and Nico could see a lake in the valley below them. The rain was beginning to ease up, and the wind had quieted. She folded her arms across her chest and looked down at the misty valley, her expression thoughtful. “I'm a little jealous of Bianca right now. You don't know this, but I have a younger brother. My mom had two kids with Zeus. Well, one with Zeus and one with Jupiter. What you're doing, trying to resurrect her? Jason wouldn't do that for me.”

“Bianca's the only family I have left. She was my best friend. I don't want to live in a world she's not in.”

“Well, that's sad, if you really think that way,” Thalia said. “But she was lucky to have a brother like you.”

“Thanks,” Nico said, staring into the distance, his heart heavy. He ached to go back to the Underworld as soon as possible. He may not be able to see her, but he missed feeling her close by. He decided to change the subject. It was better he face Artemis in a less emotional state. Without waiting on Thalia, he headed down the ridge, clutching the jars carefully and walking slowly, taking caution not to slip.

“So you and Jason aren't close, I take it,” Nico said.

“I thought he was dead until last year,” she said. “It's a long story, but basically we lost track of each other for a long time. I ran into him questing and was shocked to see him alive and kicking. Obviously we don't get to hang out much. He lives in the Bay area. I don't get out there often.”

“At least you didn't know about him when you signed up for the hunters,” Nico said.

“Unlike Bianca?” she said. “Do you resent her?” She added, looking at him curiously.

She was a little too perceptive for Nico's liking.

“Of course not,” Nico said immediately, shooting her a dark look. He wanted to say something nasty to shut her up, but he controlled himself, although her question really pissed him off. “So, Jason's a son of Jupiter.” He said. “Do you have different abilities? Jupiter is much more controlled than Zeus, right?”

“Jason can fly,” she said proudly. “I'm not entirely certain that I can't, but I, um... Let's just say it's not happening anytime soon. All of his air based abilities are stronger than mine. He also seems like he always has his shit together as a leader in a way I never did. He became praetor at 15.”

“Praetor?”

“Like a leader at Camp Jupiter?”

“Camp Jupiter?”

Her eyes went wide. The sky above her darkened, and a cloud started to rotate overhead in a threatening manner.

“Oh, shit,” she said. “Oh, fuck me. I don't think I was supposed to say that to you.”

“What's the matter?”

“I can't say any more,” she said, blanching in panic. She ran her hands through her hair, biting her lip. She glanced up at the sky, and he could tell she was trying to ascertain whether her father had overheard her. Thunder rumbled in the sky, and she flinched as the wind picked up.

“Thalia,” Nico said, sensing something very useful had just happened for him. “Did you think I didn't already know about that?” He forced out a fake laugh. “Don't worry, you're good. I'm not affiliated with Camp Half Blood anymore, so it doesn't matter what you tell me.” He was pretty sure Camp Jupiter was exactly what it sounded like,

“Oh,” she sighed. “Thank goodness. So it doesn't matter?”

“No, not at all,” he said. “I was just messing with you. Here, I do need you to hold these for a minute,” he added, handing her both jars and smiling at her.

“Oh, now you trust me?” She smirked, watching him type on his phone. Some of the dark clouds above them started to dissipate, and she looked up. The sun was beginning to peek out. Her father had been appeased.

“I need to do something on my phone.” He started typing on his notes app.

“Demigods aren't supposed to use phones,” she said.

“Ganymede gave this to me. It's safe,” Nico said.

“You're friends with Ganymede?” She snorted. “Funny, that sounds like it's a euphemism for something.”

“So funny,” Nico said, grinning at her and holding up the phone. On his notes app, he'd written,

'You are off the hook with your dad for the moment thanks to me. I definitely didn't know about the other camp, and I don't think he'll be happy that I know now. If you don't want him to find out exactly what you just did, you'd better put in an EXTREMELY good word for me with Artemis when we see her.'

“You sly motherfucker,” she said under her breath.

“Speaking of Ganymede, I think I owe him a phone call,” Nico said, closing the app and putting his phone in his pocket. “What do you think, Thalia?”

This was a major gamble. He had no idea how much pull her word might have with Artemis, and the way that she was glaring at him, he had definitely just made an enemy of her. She'd agreed to help him from the goodness of her heart, and he'd chosen to manipulate her unnecessarily, for his own benefit.

But he had weighed his odds. It was nice of Thalia to bring him to see Artemis, but he had no guarantees that the goddess would agree to speak with him once he arrived. He needed a lot of help from her, and he was asking for something huge, something never before attempted. He couldn't afford to pull his punches if he wanted the slightest hope of getting Bianca back.

“I'm waiting,” he said, looking Thalia directly in the eyes and staring her down.

Sparks of electicity began to burst from her fingertips, and the top layer of her hair began to stand on end.

“Think it through,” Nico said carefully. “I'm here for an hour, tops, and then I'm out of your hair forever. You're stuck with Zeus for eternity. You don't want to fuck this up.”

She huffed out a breath of frustration.

“You're a real piece of work, di Angelo,” she said, turning around. “Hurry up. I want this over with.”

Thrilled with his victory, Nico trotted down the hill after her. He let her keep holding the lunulae; it seemed to soothe her.

They arrived at a cluster of white tents where teen and pre-teen girls were sitting around a fire roasting meat on a spit, poring over maps, and polishing weapons.

“Thalia, what is that? Please tell me it's not a boy,” one of the hunters said.

“Ew, it smells,” said another hunter, covering her nose. “Quick, spit him and roast him!”

“I wish I could,” Thalia sighed. “Sorry, girls, but this one needs to talk to Artemis. He's Bianca's brother, and it has something to do with her.”

The group went quiet and simply stared at him with pity. Nico had preferred the mockery.

Thalia silently led him to Artemis's tent.

“I don't want to speak to the boy,” Artemis said from inside, her voice the same as Nico remembered from their first encounter many years ago. “Have him leave the amulets and go.”

Of course she'd somehow known he was coming. But Nico wasn't leaving without a fight.

“Artemis, I promised him he could speak to you. He wouldn't give us the amulets otherwise,” Thalia said.

“I don't care. He needs to go. I don't owe him anything; I've paid Hecate in advance. Send him away.”

Nico was immediately vindicated for his manipulation of Thalia. She looked at him, visibly steeled herself, then took his arm and pulled him along with her into Artemis' tent.

“Thalia? What's gotten into you?” Artemis said. She'd been sitting cross legged on a bearskin rug in her tent, sharpening a long knife of gleaming silver. She glared at Nico and Thalia. “I told you to get rid of him!”

Her appearance hadn't changed at all in the years since they'd seen each other. She still had short brown hair in a practical cut and dark eyes that were giving him a very nasty look.

“Artemis,” Thalia said, dropping to her knees. Nico dropped to his along with her. Thalia reached out and clasped Artemis' knee with her hands. “Divine sister, please. Nico needs to speak with you, and it's really important to me that you hear him out. If you've ever trusted me, if I've ever earned anything from you, I need to cash it in now. I really, really need you to speak with him. He has something you need to hear.”

Artemis stared at Thalia in shock.

“Absolutely not,” Artemis said. “You're not yourself, Thalia. I don't appreciate the theatrics. Please go back to work and let's forget this happened. I'll discard the boy myself if I must.”

She rose, and divine power filled the tent.

Thalia looked close to tears.

“I'm sorry,” she mouthed to Nico emphatically, trying to convey her message silently. “Please don't tell him! I tried, okay?”

“It's about Bianca,” Nico said, looking Artemis in the eye and trying to look pathetic. “I'm doing this for her sake, goddess. I would never presume to bother you otherwise, but she sends me here with a message. I'd hoped that as her chosen patron, you'd be willing to hear it?”

“Oh,” Artemis said, sitting. “Why didn't you lead with that? I'm always happy to hear messages from the dead. Speak, son of Hades, and tell me what she wished me to hear.”

Nico felt Thalia staring at him. She knew he was lying; there was no message, and she knew he'd have mentioned it earlier if there had been.

“I've been working with her for years now on a plan to resurrect her and bring her back into your service,” Nico said. He saw Artemis's eyes light with interest. “My father is skeptical of my ability to do it, but Persephone is supportive,” he emphasized. Artemis grew even more serious, he could tell. “I'm working with Hecate to develop stronger magical abilities to facilitate my mission,” he added. Artemis leaned in further. “Isis has been helping me as well.”

That was nonsense; Isis had taught him to use the mist, briefly, ages ago, and she'd never offered to help with Bianca's resurrection, but Artemis didn't know that. The goddess nodded.

“I find that very interesting,” Artemis said. “But how do you intend to pull this off?”

“As a daughter of Hades, her shade is fully conscious and not subject to the same limitations as normal shades,” Nico said, repeating what he'd learned from Dante. “I'm familiar with the exits and entrances to the Underworld, and distracting Cerberus and the Furies will be simple.” That was also something he was confident was true. “I can shadow travel like my father, and I can bring her with me out of the exit--”

“What about the Doors of Death? Thanatos holds the keys to them,” Artemis said. “Souls can't escape without his allowing it, typically.”

“I was getting to that. I can handle Thanatos, too,” Nico lied. “The Doors will be open.” He had no clue what she was talking about, but Thanatos had been tricked before, and he'd trick him again if necessary.

“So what do you need me for?” Artemis asked.

“I'm not hubristic,” Nico said firmly. “I can't do this without divine aid, and, honestly, I don't have every last detail figured out. If you name your terms, goddess, I think we can both gain something from this. Let's make a deal.”

Artemis stared at him for a moment, then she snorted.

“I was wondering when you were going to admit that you have no clue what you're doing,” she said. “No, you really do need my help. You're so like your father-- 'Let's make a deal,'” she repeated, mocking his deeper and more serious voice. “I'm not buying it. I wasn't born yesterday. I think your intentions are good, and I would be thrilled to have her back. I mean that-- I barely had time to meet her and she was already gone. But I don't want to waste my time on false starts. Sorry, kid. Maybe if you were a greater hero with glorious feats to your name. But looking at you, you don't seem like the type. The ugly truth is, the Fates don't give children of Hades happy endings. I'm not sure you're even meant to exist.”

That was crushing. Nico's heart wrenched in his chest. Her words rang true-- He didn't feel he was destined for happiness either.

“Bianca deserves better,” Nico said. “She deserves a hand better than the one she was dealt. You took responsibility for her. You owe her a shot at living the life you promised her.”

Artemis' eyes bored into his soul.

“You have made a lot of bold statements,” Artemis said. “That may have been your boldest. But I respect a bit of daring now and again. You're interesting. I think I'll give you a test. At the very least, you'll give the girls and I some entertainment.”

Nico's eyes burned with tears of relief.

“I'll do whatever it takes,” he said quietly.

“Kill the dragon,” Artemis said simply.

There was no further instruction. He wasn't offered a map, a weapon, or an indication of where the dragon was. The hunters herded him outside the border of their camp and then continued their meal, watching him and laughing while he tried to make a plan on the fly.

Nico stared out at the great bowl shaped valley. There was no cover. As far as he could tell, there were steep mountain ridges and shallow, grassy valleys and not much else.

He walked up to the side of the lake and stared at his reflection in the water.

What was he thinking? He hadn't even faced the manticore, and was only armed with a sword he'd never used before. He'd never done anything like this, and now he had to wing it? There was a good chance he'd die.

He pictured that possibility with dread. He was on the no ride list, so whatever injuries he sustained, he'd have to suffer with them until he fetched that dreaded hippocampus tail, the flawless calf, and the martyr bones. Why hadn't he gotten that list done ages ago? He was such an idiot. He was going to be dragging a broken and dismembered body around the world running errands. He'd be the world's first goth teen zombie.

Staring deep into the water, he saw something moving. He knelt down on the sandy lake shore and watched a little salamander crawl out of the water. It was cute, with a pudgy, rounded face and little frills on the side of its head. It was also scaly, and had spines going down its back, and –

He stood. That thing was no salamander. It wasn't just a salamander, anyway. He picked it up and brought it to Artemis.

“Nope,” she said. “You're not smart-assing your way out of this.”

“Worth a shot,” he shrugged.

“No it wasn't,” she said. “The point of testing you is to see what you're capable of. I've already clocked you as a sly little trickster.”

“That's a little harsh,” he muttered, walking away dejectedly.

As he headed back to the lake, he heard Artemis call out to the girls, “This guy thinks he can bring me a baby dragon and it still counts. I literally can't even deal with men.”

They cracked quite a few more jokes about men, but his mind was racing. It was a baby dragon, as he'd suspected.

He looked at the lake. The baby dragons must live inside it somewhere. Maybe there were underwater tunnels leading to a cave deep in the hills. He stared at the nearest mountainside and tried to use his connection to the earth to sense whether there was a cave. He hadn't practiced sensing the earth too much, or at least he didn't think he'd been practicing. But he realized that the Underworld was so dark that he'd been using his instinctive knowledge of the earth to find his way more than he'd really be aware of.

He was certain that there was a cave in the mountain, and it was massive, and something lived inside it.

The dragon was breathing out slowly, its heartbeats rumbling the earth in a slow pattern. The dragon must have been asleep inside the cave. That was an amazing development. Nico could handle that exact scenario better than pretty much anything else.

He shadow traveled to the outside of the dragon's mountain, pressing his hand to the rock, feeling the cracks and fissures and veins of ore running through it. Then he reached out to the shadow inside the hill, the darkness of the cave, and turned it solid.

The dragon began to struggle. He tightened the blanket of shadow, smothering it, and for good measure, brought massive boulders down atop the beast. Soon he could no longer feel its heartbeat.

He created an air pocket, traveled inside, slapped a hand on the dead lizard's neck and brought it straight into Artemis' camp.

The hunters exclaimed in surprise.

“But you didn't do anything!” One of them shouted.

Artemis gazed with narrowed eyes at the dragon's body, massive and grey green beneath a layer of rock dust.

“I'll admit that you have displayed... Abilities, after a fashion,” she said. “But you've gravely miscalculated one thing.”

“Oh no,” Nico said, seeing her face, every angle of which read 'Failure'.

“As the goddess of the hunt, I declare this kill unsporting,” she said. The hunters gasped as though he'd committed a felony. “This was a mother dragon peacefully resting in her cave. It was a cheap kill done in a way that meant you risked nothing.”

“I did what you asked,” Nico said. “And it died quickly. Isn't that more merciful than a drawn out hunt?”

“How dare you!” Artemis said.

“I'm sorry, I-- Okay, what do you want from me?” He asked.

“Nothing,” Artemis said coldly. “Except to see you run.”

“Run?”

“I would,” she said.

A massive dragon, twice the size of the one he'd just killed, swept across the sky. The huntresses moved to take up arms, but Artemis stopped with with an outstretched hand.

“It wants revenge for its mate,” she said. “Nico shall give it a fair fight. It's the least he can do.”

Chapter Text

The second dragon was twice as large as the first, and it looked a lot angrier.

The enormous creature flew directly over the camp and continued on past it. As it flew, its massive reptilian shape was silhouetted in black against the golden glow of the sun setting behind the mountains. It continued straight ahead for a few seconds, then swept around in a wide loop, coming back toward them.

The hunters dove for cover inside their tents, their reaction time instantaneous. Nico grabbed onto the dead dragon's wing and yanked on it, pulling it out just enough to form a space underneath. He barely managed to duck beneath it when a spray of a foul green substance hit the top of the wing like someone had sprayed it with a hose. He covered his mouth and tried not to breathe it in as a bright green mist fell over everything in the camp. He wasn't sure if it was poison or acid or both, but it smelled horrible.

He crawled out from beneath the leathery wing only after the dragon's shadow had passed over the camp for the second time. He knew he had only a handful of seconds before it looped around for another attack. Nico had a terrible shock when the first dragon's body began to dissolve into dust, in the typical monster fashion, at the worst possible time.

That was his only shelter; there was no way he would be allowed inside a tent. Artemis had told him to make a run for it. He could shadow travel out of there, go back to the Underworld and forget this ever happened. This was the chance, if he planned to take it, and he was running out of time to make his decision with every beat of the dragon's wings as it started to turn back towards him.

No, he thought quickly. He wouldn't run. Artemis had been right to call him out on killing the mother dragon in the way that he had. She'd wanted to know if he was a hero, and he'd demonstrated exactly why he wasn't one.

He was trying to resurrect someone from the dead. Trying to do the impossible. He needed to show her that he was the kind of guy who did impossible things.

There was something stirring in his chest, something he'd never felt before.

He knew he could do this.

“Stay,” he said, pointing at the dragon corpse. The dissolution halted, and the missing edge bits that had already dissolved all reformed. He sensed that the monster wouldn't go to Tartarus until he allowed it to.

He dove under the wing again as the dragon passed overhead a second time, spraying its poison as it had before. He felt Artemis' eyes on him, watching his every move. She was probably wondering why he hadn't run yet.

He'd show her that he could handle this.

He tried to think fast. The dragon was trying to avenge its mate; it wouldn't stop until Nico was dead. If the poison didn't work, it was only a matter of time before it tried to kill him with teeth and claws instead.

An idea came to him.

He hunched beneath the wing and flattened both of his palms against the side of the dragon's corpse. He took a deep breath, tried to concentrate, and began to chant. He'd never attempted this spell before, but he knew it would work, he could feel it in his gut. The magic functioned exactly as Hecate had told him it would; in his time of need, instincts kicked in.

It started working. It was slow, but he felt it. The dead dragon started stirring beneath his hands. The other dragon was already coming back, though. It wasn't working fast enough.

Nico bit his thumb hard enough to draw blood. Then he pressed his thumb to the beast's scaly side and smeared his strange golden blood across it. He'd seen Hecate do it to some of her amulets, and it always seemed to have a dramatic effect, so he had nothing to lose for trying. He put his hands on the bloodstain. Suddenly, he felt a vibrating tension fill the air, and the dragon's corpse began to stir in earnest. It raised its head and and stretched out its wings, blinking empty eyes.

The other dragon stopped in midair and let out a horrible shriek of confusion as it watched its mate begin moving again as if it had come back to life.

Nico had no time to waste. He quickly climbed on top of the bound dragon's back.

“Get me next to him,” he ordered his dragon. It hissed, an eerie rattling noise accompanied by a wet spray of mingled blood, poison, and lumps of tissue. The zombie dragon beat its wings and launched into the air.

Nico immediately regretted every choice he'd ever made. He dug his fingernails into the dragon's neck as hard as he could and fought to keep his eyes open, even though the sight of the ground moving further and further away made him tremble with fear. Being airborne did not sit well with him, but he reminded himself he had the situation-- or at least a massive dead dragon-- under his control.

The wind whipped past his ears, so much colder than it had been at ground level. His face began to go numb, and his hair was blowing around in front of his face, but he took deep breaths and tried to stay calm.

The dead dragon pulled up beside the living one, and it hovered the same way its mate was hovering, beating its wings directly up and down to stay aloft.

The other dragon was staring at it. Nico knew it was only a matter of time before his mount was accurately identified as a zombie. If he was seriously about to kill this other dragon, he'd have to hurry up and do it.

Nico watched the dragon carefully, trying to estimate the exact perfect spot to shadow travel onto its back. Was this plan insanely stupid? It had seemed like a good idea when he was standing on the ground. Now, not so much.

He hesitated too long, scared of estimating the distance inaccurately. The living dragon roared in anger, seeming to realize its mate wasn't really as it appeared to be. Maybe it had gone too long without responding to its partner's anguished cries, or the stench of death had become too noticeable, or it had just seen Nico and realized he was up to no good.

It crashed into Nico's dragon with a roar, slamming it backwards in midair, both dragons flapping their wings furiously in order to stay aloft. They become locked together in midair combat as the larger dragon dug its talons into the flesh of the zombie, screeching in rage.

Nico hadn't had a solid handhold, and he was suddenly knocked backwards into the air, beginning to free fall downward at astonishing speed. The ground was coming toward him faster than he could process what had just happened.

As if by some miracle, the sun chose that moment to dip below the horizon, and the valley grew instantly darker, the mountains casting black shadows that fell across the open fields below. Nico opened his eyes and saw the shadows now covering almost everything in the previously exposed valley. It wasn't perfectly dark yet, but it was a massive turn in his favor. All fear left him, and he smiled, reaching out to the shadow directly beneath him. It reached back to him, and met his fingertips.

He shadow traveled to a safe place on the ground and breathed a sigh of relief. He'd been inches from impact. If the sun hadn't set at that exact time, he'd be a pancake.

“Thank you, Nyx,” he whispered, feeling her presence all around him, enveloping him as surely as if she was giving him another hug. He knew the shadows had been her gift.

He'd have to thank her more later, but now, it was time to finish what he'd started. He looked up at the dragons and whistled, calling the zombie back down to him.

It was a horrific, ruined mess now. He could see the white rib bones and, when he looked past them, saw directly inside the chest cavity. It was empty, but there were large chunks of gore littering the open plain. Its mate had made a valiant effort to destroy it, but it hadn't broken the legs or wings, or torn enough muscles to disable it totally. The female dragon wouldn't be free of Nico's control until he willed it, no matter how badly its body was damaged.

Nico jumped on top of his dragon and wrapped his arms around its neck, far more tightly this time. They launched into the air once more, soaring around in circles, carefully avoiding the other dragon.

Now he had to try to kill it again. This time, he intended to succeed.

Hesitation and shadow travel calculations had failed him on the last attempt, so he decided to just jump for it and hope to land on the other dragon's back. If he missed, he'd fall again, and shadow travel once more to safety, as he'd done the first time. The amount of time airborne wasn't going to feel good, but he knew this was the fastest and, more importantly, the most heroic way to accomplish his goal.

He could see Artemis on the ground, small as a tiny speck, the white glow of her skin giving her away. She was staring at him from the center of her camp. He knew she could see him perfectly well even from a distance. He had to impress her and do this like a huntress, so he steeled himself for a very risky attempt at a display of physical skill.

He directed his dragon to take him overtop of the other dragon, as close as possible, and luckily, just as they passed above it, another glob of congealed blood and mush fell onto the other dragon's head, confusing it briefly so that it stayed in place.

Nico slipped off of his dragon and dropped directly on top of the other one. He almost didn't hang on, his feet slipping on the scales of its back, but he managed to scramble to a position he could hold for the brief moment he needed.

He waved his hand and materialized his Stygian iron sword in mid-air, then sunk it deep into the dragon's hide.

The living dragon dissolved into dust beneath him.

He hadn't expected it, but his zombie dragon managed to catch him as he fell. He held on for dear life as it flew him to the ground.

It slammed into the ground in the center of camp, hitting hard. He heard ribs crack, and the poor thing couldn't seem to lift its head up any longer. He rubbed her neck fondly.

“Thank you,” he said, waving his hand and sending her to Tartarus.

He turned and saw Artemis and the hunters staring at him.

“Before you say anything,” Nico said, drawing in a deep breath. “I know that was gross, and I know you probably would have preferred if I had just gotten eaten or something. But you should know that for the entire time my feet weren't touching the ground, I was literally the most scared I've ever been,” he said. “So if you wanted to see me suffer, I promise, you already did. Every second of that was a nightmare for me.”

“Good,” Artemis said. “Glad to hear it.”

He stared at her.

“It was an entertaining hunt,” Artemis admitted reluctantly. “I've never seen anything quite like it.”

“There's never been anyone quite like me,” Nico said, folding his arms and trying to project heroic confidence and capability. He didn't quite feel it, but he was closer now than he'd ever been.

She pulled her braid over her shoulder and ran a hand over it, seeming to be contemplating something.

Finally she raised her hand, and one of the lunula jars flew into her palm. She threw it to the ground, smashing the glass. The lunula amulet rose, spinning in the air, and she slipped a small white finger under the thin silver chain.

“Take this boon from me, Nico di Angelo, for your sister,” Artemis said. “Hang this around her neck, and I will exert my will on her soul from the outside, summoning her back to me. If you get her soul out of the Underworld, I will restore her mortal body and ensure she remains among the living.With both of us,” she said, and Nico realized she was actually acknowledging his ability, “We may succeed.”

Nico grabbed the amulet.

“Thank you so--.”

“Enough,” she said, waving him away. “Tell no one I gave you this. Now go away. I don't want to see you again without your sister.”

“You won't,” Nico said. “I swear it on the Styx.”

Nico almost shadow traveled back to the Necromanteion, but he wasn't sure whether it would harm the lunula. He decided to err on the safe side and walk.

The hike back to the Necromanteion was long and punishing, his legs burning as he climbed up and down ridge after ridge. The earth was sopping wet from the earlier storm and his shoes were getting soaked, leaving him with cold, wet feet.

It didn't bother him much. He was too busy thinking about all that had just happened. He'd killed two dragons in the span of a few minutes. Where had that come from? Was his divine ancestry finally granting him the heroic instincts he'd always worried he lacked?

It wasn't as though he'd done anything that difficult. Manipulating earth and shadow came naturally, and the temporary reanimation of the dragon wasn't all that different from controlling a skeleton. It was basic necromancy, and far from the hardest spell he'd worked on with Hecate.

His abilities weren't shocking. More surprising was the fact that he'd come up with so many good ideas on the spot. Hecate had been right; he couldn't possibly have known what he was capable of until he was in a real world scenario. Nico finally started accepting the fact that his initial manticore encounter, the one where he'd screamed and fallen over like an idiot, had really been a fluke. He didn't suck at being a demigod. He was competent.

More than anything, Nico wanted to run to his father's throne room and tell him everything. He knew exactly how Hades would react; he'd grumble and say something about beginner's luck, but he'd beam with pride at the same time. Then Nico would tell Persephone and Minos and Hecate and Nyx, he'd text Ganymede and Isis and Ariadne and thank them for believing in him. They'd all helped in their own way, after all.

Only, he couldn't tell anyone. He wasn't sure how good Artemis was at keeping secrets. Surely some of her hunters had friends outside of the group. Word would eventually get out about having seen him. But her gift of the lunula might not be mentioned, even if the rest of the tale was told. It was smarter if he pretended none of it had ever happened, just in case.

But Nyx knew. He'd felt her presence, and he knew she'd been protecting him. He could talk to her. There was no point pretending she didn't already know everything he was planning regarding Bianca; he was sure she did. It would be a good opportunity to find out more about Thanatos and the Doors of Death, too.

His heart was racing. There was more to figure out, but he had a real chance at this now, thanks to Artemis. Bianca might really come back to life. He'd get to talk to her, hug her. He'd get his best friend back.

Only, in exchange for her life, he'd had to sell her back to Artemis. He accepted that it had probably been inevitable. Bianca had chosen eternity with the goddess, after all. He hoped, desperately, that Bianca would find a way to make time for him in spite of that. Surely she'd make it a priority to see him frequently after everything he'd done for her.

He saw the Necromanteion in the distance and quickened his pace. He had to stay focused. Fretting about their relationship could come after she was returned to life. They would have time to sort things out, but he had to stay on task.

“Lyside!” He called out as he entered the temple. He hurried down the stairs and past the lit area with informational signs. He clutched the lunula in his fist, the chain wrapped around his hand. “Lyside?”

He stood in the chamber with the bones and gems set into the floor and looked around, sensing her presence lurking nearby. She was hiding, resisting him for some reason.

“Lyside, come out,” he said firmly. “I know you're here.”

Lyside shimmered into being in front of him.

“Oh, dang it,” she muttered.

“Where were you?”

“Um well, the truth is,” she said, brushing ghostly hair out of her face. “I was hiding.”

“Hiding? Why?”

“I don't know,” she said. “I got nervous about the prospect of seeing my children again. What if they're angry with me for leaving them? What if it's awkward?”

“I'm sure they'll be happy to see you,” Nico said.

“I may not even recognize them,” she admitted.

“You will,” Nico said. “You're their mom. You know their souls better than anyone.”

“I hope so,” she said, still worried. “I don't know what came over me. I've been alone here for so long I suppose I got used to it.”

“That's not your fault,” Nico said. “You're not where you're meant to be. That needs to be set right.”

Lyside shimmered anxiously, her semi-translucent form wavering like water.

“Take my hand,” Nico offered.

She took his hand, and her form solidified. Her hand felt cool, but not corpse-cool, in his. He looked down and saw long fingers covered in rings, muscular from weaving, with manicured nails.

A new light entered her eyes, and she looked at him curiously, her mind becoming more lucid than it had been in millenia.

“I'm Nico,” he said, seeing the question about to come to her lips. “Son of Hades.”

“Oh, my,” she said, eyes going wide. “You honor me with your notice, divine prince.”

“I'm nobody special,” Nico admitted. “Although I am having a pretty good day today. I just killed two dragons.”

Nico told her the entire story of the dragon slaying, leaving out the part about why he was doing it, for ease of storytelling. All the while, he and Lyside walked down the dark and winding passageways of the Necromanteion until they reached the exit.

Lyside had been sufficiently distracted by the story up until the waters of the Acheron came into view. She hesitated at the top of the narrow stair, gripping Nico's hand tightly.

“Charon?” He called out. The boat soon floated around the bend, and Charon tipped his hat to them as he docked before the stairs.

“Does she seem familiar?” Nico asked Charon. Charon tilted his head affirmatively.

“You know what, I think I forgot my coin,” Lyside said, a look of sudden panic entering her eyes. “Let me run back and grab it.”

“I'm not letting go of your hand,” Nico said, smiling at her. “Come on. Last boat ride ever. You should try to enjoy it.”

She nodded and followed him into the boat. They sat together at one end as Charon pushed off the dock and proceeded back into the Underworld.

“You don't have to pay twice,” Nico reassured her. She didn't seem comforted.

He knew that holding her hand was making her experience this more consciously, and that letting go would help her relax, but he didn't want to risk her disappearing. He'd seen shades slip in and out of sight unexpectedly, faster than the eye could track them, more times than he could count. He also didn't mind if she was a bit nervous. It didn't seem cruel to let her experience the feeling one last time. Quite the opposite, Nico thought that if it was him in her place, he'd want to feel everything for as long as he could, so long as there was a definite end point. And for her, there was. Soon she'd never have another worry for the rest of eternity.

“I envy you,” he said. “I would give anything to be with my family forever.”

“Is there a reason you can't?” She asked.

“I'm hoping someday it will happen,” he said. “There's just things I have to do first.”

She nodded.

“My husband pushed me down the stairs after an argument,” she said. “I wasn't ready to die. The death itself wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I just wish I'd had time to get my affairs in order. I left my things a mess, and I know my daughters fought over my jewelry. I'd have labeled who got what if I'd only had time.”

“I'm sure they worked it out eventually,” Nico said.

“I guess I'll find out soon enough,” Lyside said. She was beginning to look a little more hopeful about her return to the Fields.

They passed the entrance to Hecate's cave and wound further upriver until they stopped at the edge of the Fields. The shades began to crowd together on the shore to see them. Nico had to wave them away, pushing them backwards so that Lyside had an open space to disembark.

“It feels good to be here again,” she said, looking around. “Like coming back to your own bed after traveling.”

Nico glanced around and didn't see any shades that appeared to know her.

“Say your children's names,” he told Lyside.

She spoke four names aloud, and Nico repeated after her. As he spoke, four shades appeared before them in turn.

After a moment of confusion at being summoned, each of them exclaimed their joy and embraced Lyside excitedly. She apologized profusely for her absence, but Nico stopped her.

“None of this was your mother's fault,” Nico said.

“We know,” said one of her sons. “She's always been like this, taking too much blame on her shoulders. It's time to quit worrying now, mother!”

Lyside was soon surrounded by her children and the grandchildren and great grandchildren she'd never met, her parents and friends and neighbors, and she did indeed look like all thought of worry had left her. Nico watched her gradually become a part of the mass of shades, and her speech, once intelligible, began to sound like all the other soft whispers of the fields. The brief spark of happiness at reunion faded into a bland and uneventful eternity, one where she could be at peace, spending forever with the people she'd always loved.

She gave Nico one last glance, whispered, 'thank you,' and disappeared.

Nico stared at the grey mass of shades for a while and took it all in.

He'd killed two dragons today, and gotten the magical necklace that would bring Bianca back to life. He'd finally started acting like a half decent demigod, surpassing every expectation he'd had of himself.

Somehow, bringing Lyside home felt a thousand times more heroic.

He couldn't stop smiling. His heart felt full, but he was beginning to feel a deep exhaustion creeping in after the events of the day. He walked back to the palace and headed straight to his room, collapsing on his bed with the lunula clenched tightly in his hand. He held it over his heart and closed his eyes.

Sleep took him unexpectedly, almost violently, as he was yanked into a dream alongside Maria Bova in Litochoro again. She was in the kitchen, speaking quietly on the phone that hung from the wall.

Nico was at the small table in the kitchen, looking at a sheet of raw pasta dough sitting on the table that was waiting to be cut into the proper shapes. He could hear Rosa in the dining area talking in heavily accented Greek with the guests, which made it hard to eavesdrop on Maria.

He stood and walked over to stand beside her, leaning against the wall.

“I know, Zia, but she won't listen to me,” Maria said, her voice tight with fear. “She says the doctors here don't know anything. They don't impress me either, but isn't that all the more reason to get a second opinion? Can you try to convince her-- I know she's stubborn, but this is serious, she could-- She could... I've got to go,” she said. “No, she's not coming, I just can't keep talking about this. I have ravioli to make, and you're not being helpful.”

Maria hung up the phone hard, slamming the receiver into place and breaking down in tears of frustration and fear. Nico guessed that her mom's heart wasn't doing well and she was scared for her health. He wished there was something he could do, but he wasn't sure what anyone could do short of tranquilize Rosa and tie her to her bed. It was Rosa's life, and hers to spend as she wished. She sounded happy, laughing loudly in the dining area even as her daughter wept into her pasta dough in the next room.

Nico sat at the table and watched as Maria rolled out the dough expertly. She shifted her weight and moved with the rolling pin rather than rolling with her arms; probably to save her arm strength for more kitchen tasks later.

Maria had to keep stopping and wiping her eyes. Nico watched helplessly, wanting more than anything to give her a big hug. He didn't need to see it to know that she'd probably never started the singing lessons with the muses that she'd been looking forward to in his last dream. Maria would never spend time on herself when her mother needed her, especially not when she was sick.

This beautiful young woman with the voice of an angel was trapped in this kitchen and miserable. Nico sighed, pressing a finger into the pasta dough. Normally he'd never violate good pasta like that, but he was in a dream and couldn't actually harm it.

“Maria,” he said. “I know it feels like you're alone, but you're not. I promise I'm here and I'm looking out for you. I don't think there's anything I can do right now, but someday I'll pay you back for what you did for me. That's a promise.”

He woke up after finishing his sentence, and didn't have time to register the indentation his finger had left in the dough.

Chapter Text

“Wake up, sleepy,” Persephone said. Nico opened his eyes and saw Persephone standing at the end of his bed, gently shaking his ankle.

“I'll wake him,” Hades said, lurking in the doorway.

“We're not pouring water on him,” Persephone snapped. “See, he's awake. Nico, hi, hello! Did you rest well?”

“Where have you been?” Hades snapped. “Charon said you went out. It's not easy to get details out of him.”

Nico sat up, blinking groggily. His vision was still overlapped with Maria's kitchen, and he had to concentrate to snap back into reality.

He waved his hand and lit the candles in his room so that he could see them better, using a fire spell Hecate had taught him.

“That was good! Very graceful,” Persephone said. “Hecate's taught you well. Were you with her? She's out, too, but she's hasn't come back yet.”

Persephone sat on the end of his bed, and Hades leaned against the doorframe, his arms folded. Nico quickly tried to remember the version of the story he'd decided to tell them.

“Hecate sent me to deliver new lunulae to Artemis,” he said. “She's dropping off her new baby at the dad's house.”

“She didn't tell me there was a new baby!” Persephone said in dismay. “Sometimes she lets me smell them. Did you know that new babies smell exactly like springtime? What did this one smell like?”

“I didn't hold it to find out,” Nico said. “I felt like I'd be a bad influence on him.”

“You're just like your father,” Persephone scoffed. “You don't give yourself enough credit. You two have kind and loving hearts. What's the bad influence in that?”

There was a brief, awkward silence where Nico felt both uncomfortable with the praise and skeptical that it applied to his father in the same way it did to him.

“Anyway,” Hades said loudly. “I see you have a lunula there. Why do you have that? You know I don't care to have Olympian artifacts lying around.”

“I'm an Olympian artifact, dear,” Persephone smiled.

“You're the exception,” Hades said. “But I don't like for Artemis to be giving you gifts and influencing you unduly, Nico. She is clever and likes to play games with people. She rarely loses, either.”

Nico was pretty sure Artemis's mindset had been closer to that of her brother Apollo when he'd thrown the earrings at Nico as he was leaving his room on Olympus-- 'Take this and lose my number.' He doubted Artemis expected to see him again.

But he couldn't explain that to his father, or he'd have to tell about her helping him resurrect Bianca. Hades had allowed Nico's research, but he would never tolerate an Olympian meddling in something so personal for him.

“Artemis gave this to me because it was Bianca's,” Nico said. “I think she felt guilty about what happened. It's just a memento.”

Hades looked down at it in Nico's hands.

“I doubt she feels guilty, but you may keep it. Perhaps having something of hers will help you to move on.”

Nico's immediate reaction was to get very angry at the implication that he'd ever move on from Bianca, and he would have said, or more likely shouted, something nasty to show his father how unwelcome the comment was. But he held back, because Persephone quickly reached out and grabbed his foot through his blanket and squeezed it to get his attention.

“It's okay,” she said once he was looking at her. “We know you need to move at your own pace. Your father just wants you to be happy.”

“That is not the only reason I want him to let her go,” Hades said firmly. “But never mind. Dear, don't you have a meeting to prepare for?”

“I do,” she said. “Nico, I want you to attend the all-hands meeting on the Asphodel terrace. I'd like you to wear the uniform I got you.”

“Uniform?” Nico said. “I didn't know that was a thing.”

“I'm trying something new,” she said firmly. “You'll understand when I go over it at the meeting. You know the outfit I'm talking about? The special one?”

He nodded, and she and Hades left to go prepare for the meeting.

Nico went over to his pile of clothing and picked through it, looking for his uniform. He had designer t-shirts, athleisure, and a cool leather jacket-- he set that aside for later. Then his fingers touched something that was undoubtedly special.

He picked it up and examined it. It was a simple black chiton made of Stygian silk. At a glance it looked like a handful of shiny black fabric, but it felt cool to the touch and lighter than air.

Stygian silk was a safe choice for an Underworld uniform, he thought, since he'd seen all the Cthonic gods wear it at some point or another. A Greek chiton was also a safe choice, because everyone would already be used to them. Everyone but him, anyway.

He looked at it in confusion. How did one wear a rectangle, exactly?

He picked up the golden pomegranate pin that had come with it, and tried to pin the chiton on a couple of times. He must have been doing something wrong, because it was open on the side. Nobody from ancient Greece would bat an eye, but it was showing way too much skin for his liking. Nico couldn't even look in the mirror without yanking it closed and trying to pull the bottom of the skirt down further.

He fought with the garment for a few minutes, growing increasingly frustrated with himself. He'd seen about a million of them depicted both in art and in person, but he'd never thought to study the mechanics of how you draped and pinned it so that one part of you or another wasn't hanging out for the world to see.

“Knock knock,” someone said from outside his doorway. Nico froze, chiton wrapped awkwardly around his frame. He glanced at the open doorway and saw that Minos was standing there watching him.

“Queen Persephone sent me in case you needed help,” Minos said. “Do you?”

Ancient Greeks weren't phased by nudity, so he knew Minos was just politely looking and not staring. Nico wished he could feel that casually about bodies, but he had been raised Roman Catholic and the damage had been done. He tried not to blush and stutter his way through his response.

“It's probably obvious that I don't know what I'm doing,” Nico said, embarassed that he hadn't been able to figure out something so simple. “Can you help?”

“Sure,” Minos said, strolling in. “Stygian silk,” he observed, running his fingers along the fabric of the chiton. “That's fine stuff. It suits you,” he said, smiling fondly at Nico.

Nico flushed, and Minos hesitated with his hands on the chiton, taking in Nico's nervous posture.

“I'm not making you uncomfortable, am I?” Minos said.

“I asked you to help me,” Nico said.

“I know. But if you change your mind, feel free to say so,” Minos said, pinning the top part of the chiton together on Nico's shoulder with the golden pomegranate pin. “I'm here to serve you.”

This tanned and broad shouldered ancient king, here to serve him? Nico's heart pounded. This situation was exactly what he'd been hoping would happen, and he was questioning whether it was real or if Hypnos was sending him a really awesome dream.

“If I want you to stop, I'll tell you to stop,” Nico said firmly. Minos grinned.

“Thus speaks the prince of the underworld. I'll obey your every command,” he said playfully, tucking a lock of black hair behind Nico's ear.

“I'm not the prince,” Nico muttered.

“You are to me,” Minos said softly, making sure the diagonal fold on the front of Nico's chiton was arranged neatly. He walked over to the side table with the pile of clothing on it, picking up a thin belt that Nico had missed. He tied it around Nico's waist, and the chiton was complete, no longer partly open and in danger of accidentally flashing everyone in the meeting.

“Why didn't I think of that?” Nico said.

“You've really never worn this before?”

“No,” Nico said. “The Aphrodite cabin hosted traditional dress parties sometimes, but I never went. I wasn't big on participation.”

“That's a shame,” Minos said. “The look suits you. You'd have been the most beautiful one in the room. No one would be able to take their eyes off you.”

“At an Aphrodite kid party? Be serious,” Nico said, thinking the idea was ridiculous. If Aphrodite kids were staring at him, it could only be because they'd mistaken him for a sewer rat and were planning on chasing him out with a broom.

“I stand by what I said. I don't know why you think so little of yourself,” he said, putting a hand on Nico's shoulder and turning him to look in the mirror. “You are greatly admired.”

Nico looked at his reflection, seeing a tall, pale and thin young man staring back at him. His nose was too long, his cheekbones too prominent, and he had dark circles under his eyes. There was nothing special or princely about him. But he caught Minos's eye in the mirror, and he saw the way Minos was looking at him.

“Greatly admired?” Nico said. “By who? Cerberus?” He wanted to hear Minos say it outright. It was hard for him to believe it was possible that anyone could want him. Because of that, if Minos left the slightest hint of doubt, Nico would seize on it and gaslight himself into thinking that Minos was just humoring him. He wanted more certainty.

They were standing so close that Minos could probably hear his heart beating.

“By everyone,” Minos said, breaking their eye contact in the mirror and turning away.

Nico reached up and placed his hand on top of Minos' where it rested on his shoulder.

“Minos,” he said, turning around to face him. “I--”

“We're running late,” Minos said quietly. “We shouldn't keep the King and Queen waiting.”

Disappointed, Nico withdrew his hand and stepped away.

“Oh,” he said. “Fine.” He tried not to be bitter about it, but he felt like he'd just been rejected, again. He'd rather Minos ignore him than lead him on. He thought about telling him so, but Mino had reached into a fold of his himation and drawn something out.

“Before we go, I got you something,” he said quietly. “Nothing particularly rare, but I hope you'll accept it. After you gave me the bracelet, I couldn't help myself.”

Nico saw the bronze bracelet flashing on Minos's wrist and smiled. He'd forgotten about that, but he supposed if Minos was still wearing it, it was a good sign.

He held out his hand, and Minos placed a small ring onto his palm. It was pale white, carved from human bone. It would only fit on his pinky.

“I found a good quality femur in the Styx and worked on this between judgements,” Minos said. “What do you think?”

Nico slid it on his finger and smiled.

“I really like it,” he said. “Thank you.”

Minos nodded.

“Perhaps it's better if you tell your father it came from someone else,” he added hesitantly.

“I know. Don't worry,” Nico said. “We'll keep it between us.”

“If this were my palace,” Minos said, looking a bit sad. “I'd give you roosters with fine plumage and lovely bull calves for sacrifice. Everything a youth could want. But we are in a different time and place, and now I am a mere servant in your father's kingdom. What I can do is very limited.”

“Don't feel bad about that,” Nico reassured him. “It's the thought that counts. I'm not sure what I'd do with roosters anyway,” he added. “I really like the ring.”

“Good,” Minos said. “But as I said, please be careful not to speak of it to anyone. Let's not test your father's patience too much, or I doubt we'll so much as speak to each other for the rest of eternity.”

“Yeah. You're right,” Nico said, smiling and touching his new ring. “I'm ready to go now.”

He followed Minos out to the Asphodel balcony, in a far brighter mood now that he'd been reassured his affections were returned. On the balcony, he saw that Persephone was standing at the edge, looking out over the fields with her hands behind her back. Nico was looking forward to hearing her speak to her staff. It would be his first time at a formal Underworld meeting, and he was sure it would be interesting.

Minos went to join the other judges. They were standing in the center of the balcony beside the Furies, who were tapping their taloned feet and glaring at the late arrivals. Charon stood at their side, his hat tilted over his face. Nico thought he might be asleep.

Hades stood off to one side with Cerberus at his feet, and Nico went to stand with him, giving the big dog a good scratch behind all six ears. He had to be careful to avoid ruining his new clothes with globs of dog slobber. Cerberus rolled over and even let him rub his belly.

“We're still waiting on people. Nearly everyone is late, as usual. What is this, Olympus?” Hades said, making Nico laugh.

“Do most people down here even have a way to tell time?”

“No, but that's no excuse,” Hades said. “I may send you to wake Hypnos up if he takes much longer.”

“Am I finally going to meet Thanatos?” Nico asked.

“No, he wasn't invited,” Hades said. “He is far too behind on his work to afford to attend lengthy meetings. Is that the uniform? Persephone did an excellent job, as usual,” he said proudly. “Though I'm not sure her plan will bear fruit, I am supporting her efforts nonetheless, and I expect you to do the same.”

“You know I will,” Nico said. “I'd do anything for her.”

“I know,” Hades said, and smiled down at Nico fondly. “You could have at least run a comb through your hair,” he added, growing stern again quickly.

Nico grumbled and ran a hand through his curls, feeling self conscious.

“Ah! You must be my fellow model,” Hecate said, walking up to stand beside Nico. She was wearing a near identical chiton, in the longer feminine cut, with the same golden pomegranate clasp on her shoulder. “It's comfy, but it's not really my style,” she whispered.

“Not your style? This isn't even my time period,” Nico laughed. “You know these clothes are ancient history to me, right?”

“I think of them as timeless,” Hecate said. “I just prefer a bit of color. It looks great on you. But your hair is a mess. Here.” She waved her hand at Nico's head, and, although he couldn't see it, he could tell she'd styled his hair for him.

“Better,” Hades grumbled.

“When's the fashion show?” A familiar voice called out. Hermes floated down to the center of the balcony on his winged shoes, forcing the judges and furies to move backward quickly to accommodate him. He glanced around at everyone curiously, and his animated demeanor and constant movement making him stand out from the others like a sore thumb. Nico immediately felt annoyance radiating off of his father.

“Soon, Hermes,” Persephone said, turning around for the first time since Nico had come out. She had a small stack of flashcards clutched in her hand. “How are you?”

“Busy, busy, busy,” he said. “Just the way I like it. What's the matter with you? You look worried.”

“Not worried, just trying to organize my thoughts before I make my announcements,” she said, glancing over Hermes' shoulder at Nico and smiling at him. She turned back around just in time to see Hypnos and Morpheus flying up to land on the balcony as well.

Hypnos greeted Hermes politely, and Morpheus ran straight over to Nico and hugged him.

“Hey, dude,” Nico said, patting his head of fluffy curls. “What's up?”

“You kept your promise,” Morpheus said quietly. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome,” Nico said. He'd almost forgotten that he'd been reading to his father to give Hypnos more time with his family. It had stopped feeling like a chore quickly and become a normal, even relaxing way to spend time with Hades. Odd that giving Morpheus more time with his father had helped him to get along better with his own.

“Boys, hush,” Hades said, as Persephone turned around and cleared her throat. Hypnos stepped aside to stand with Hecate, and Morpheus stayed in front of Nico.

Persephone was not tall for a goddess, but standing before everyone, she commanded the crowd, and no one looked anywhere but at her. She glowed with confidence, grace, and authority, and Nico was thrilled to see her acting in her formal capacity as the Queen of the Underworld for the first time.

“First of all, thank you to everyone for being here. I know we all have busy schedules to keep, but it's important we don't lose sight of the forest for the trees. With respect to everyone's time, I'll try to speak straightforwardly. The work we do here is crucial to the functioning of all human sleep and death on the surface, and we need to keep our team operating at the highest possible level of efficiency if we have any hope of keeping up with the increased demands of these times we are currently in. Population growth has kept us on our toes for the last few centuries, but I wanted to share something with you that I read from a mortal scientific journal.”

“Pfft. What do those mortals know about anything?” Hermes said.

Cerberus growled at him, and Hades muttered something threatening, but Persephone pretended she hadn't heard.

“The good news is, the mortal population is expected to peak in 2080,” she said. “That is the hardest our work will ever be, and from there it should begin to grow easier once more!”

There were scattered cheers, and Hypnos applauded quite a bit. Morpheus tugged at Nico's chiton and looked up at him.

“I'm so relieved,” he said.

Nico frowned, but said nothing.

“What's the bad news?” Alecto croaked.

“In 2080, the global population is projected to peak at 10.4 billion people,” Persephone said calmly.

The balcony went silent.

“That has to be a typo,” Hypnos said flatly.

“How is that possible?” Aeacus demanded. “There's not enough farmland to feed all those people, is there?”

Minos glanced at Nico, panicked. Nico felt for him. Minos couldn't imagine a world with high-rise skyscrapers full of thousands of people packed closely together, living in cities where hundreds of identical towers full of people stretched to the sky, all of them fed by mass produced packaged food. It was beyond explanation to someone whose reference point lay thousands of years in the past.

“How many are we at now?” Hermes said, frowning.

“Around 8 billion,” she said.

“That's a twenty five percent increase in sixty years time,” Hermes said. “More than that, actually.”

Everyone began talking at once, mainly exclaiming their disbelief and horror. Morpheus sat on the ground and started crying.

“I can't do it,” he whimpered. “I can't. It's just too many dreams.”

Hypnos looked too shell-shocked to comfort his son, so Nico knelt beside Morpheus and patted him on the back.

“It's just sixty more years, and then it will get better,” Nico said. “It'll be over before you know it.”

“This is why the news had to come from her,” Hades said quietly. Nico suddenly understood better than before why his father was so worn out and short tempered. His job was growing harder by the day at an exponential rate.

“Did everybody just stop using contraception all of a sudden?” Hecate asked Nico, looking confused.

“People aren't having that many children,” Nico said. “But modern medicine keeps the ones they do have alive for almost a century each. The diseases that killed kids I went to school with have all been cured now.”

“Selfish fucks,” Hecate spat. “New plague! Who's with me?”

“Apollo tried that already,” Hermes said. “It barely made a dent.”

“Everyone, please quiet down,” Persephone said sternly. “The population is outside of our control. We need to focus on the aspects of this that we can do something about. The most important thing is that we help each other as much as possible. Most of this burden will fall on Hypnos and Thanatos, who will be serving populations larger than they ever have before. As their lieutenants, Morpheus and Hermes, you will be expected to expand your roles to assist them.”

Morpheus was already doing that, and he was at the end of his rope. Nico squeezed his hand reassuringly, but it didn't seem to help much. Morpheus just hung his head in despair.

“I can't work any more hours down here than I already am,” Hermes said flatly.

“Hermes, we've discussed this,” Persephone sighed.

“Ad nauseam. It's not happening,” he shrugged. “Complain to dad if you don't like it.”

Persephone looked defeated, but she moved on quickly.

“I know we have a great team down here and we will all be supporting when and where we can,” she said. “We will also be implementing new efficiency plans. We've identified a bottleneck in processing at the punishment stage that we'll address in a follow up meeting--”

“I can't whip any faster!” Alecto snapped.

“And we have new tools to assist in teamwork and communication. Nico, Hecate, if you please.” She waved them over, and Nico and Hecate walked over to stand in front of the group.

Rhadamanthys wolf whistled at Nico, elbowing Minos obnoxiously, but Hecate pretended it was for her and winked at him, making everyone laugh.

“These are the new uniforms,” Persephone said. “Completely optional, but they will be made of Stygian silk, custom tailored for each of you. It's a top of the line performance material that helps you move ten percent more quietly and five percent faster. It's also sweat wicking and allows total freedom of movement. Studies have shown that uniforms increase feelings of belonging and cooperation, and new clothes are effective mood boosters as well. And aren't they just too cute?”

Hecate did a little spin, but Nico was too uncomfortable in front of the group to show off. He just stood still and waited for it to be over.

“Thank you, Hecate. Nico, hang around a moment longer,” Persephone said, taking Hecate's spot beside him and putting her hand on his shoulder. “Another announcement! For those who don't already have them, you will be receiving new top of the line Iris brand cell phones to aid speedy communication. Each phone have an app called 'Styx' pre-installed that you can click on to see up-to-date metrics and projections on the latest sleep, dreaming, and death statistics.” She waved her hands, and black cell phones identical to the kind Nico had appeared in the hands of the judges and the furies, as well as Charon. Everyone else pulled out phones that were buzzing, presumably with the notification of a new app being downloaded.

“I'm hoping we can find a young and hip volunteer to teach everyone how to use them,” Persephone said, poking Nico in the back.

“I volunteer,” he said.

“Wonderful!” She said happily. “Now for awards. Morpheus, can you come over here, please?”

Morpheus approached her, his mood appearing to lift at the mention of an award.

“Morpheus, in recognition of all you do to serve your father and this realm, you are chosen to receive this year's Cthonic god of the year award!” She said, waving a hand and crowning him with laurels. Instead of real laurel leaves, the crown was instead fashioned with perfect imitation laurel carved from ebony. It was beautiful, shining and black and very sharp. Morpheus touched it with awe, grinning, as everyone applauded.

“Congrats,” Nico said. He moved to step aside so that Morpheus could have the spotlight, but Persephone didn't let go of his shoulder.

“We also have a new program called the Sticker of Helpfulness that will be given out weekly,” Persephone added. “Nico, Charon nominated you for this week's sticker for your assistance in rescuing a lost shade from the Necromanteion! Everyone, Nico found a shade who'd been improperly summoned to the temple and had gotten stuck. Somehow he got her unstuck and managed to bring her back to Asphodel. And he didn't even mention it to anyone, he just helped because he wanted to. For that, he earns the sticker.”

She waved a hand, and a big purple pomegranate sticker was stuck to the front of his chiton.

“Thanks,” he said, feeling bashful.

“No, thank you,” she said. She shooed him back to stand with his father and continued her presentation. She went over various graphs and charts for a while, which Nico found interesting enough that he managed to pay attention until the end. After she wrapped up the presentation, she encouraged everyone to convene in the dining room for complimentary snacks and beverages.

She and Hades went back to their office, Cerberus trotting along behind them, and Nico shuffled over to the dining room with the others. Charon stood awkwardly in the corner while everyone else took their seats at the long table laden with the usual feast.

“You can sit next to me,” Nico said, beckoning him to sit beside him on the bench.

Charon sat down and stared at the food, unmoving.

“He doesn't eat,” Hypnos said, sitting on Nico's other side. He looked more worn out than usual.

Nico watched as Charon tried to put his new phone in his mouth and bite it.

“Uh, you don't want to do that,” Nico said, gently pulling Charon's skeletal hand away from his jagged, rotten teeth. “I'll show you how it works later. Thank you for nominating me for the sticker, by the way.”

Charon inclined his head silently.

Nico turned his attention to Hypnos. He was looking at Morpheus, who was sitting further down the table. He was excitedly bragging to Hecate about his new crown, which he was looking forward to wearing for the next year.

“He really earned that,” Nico said.

“He did,” Hypnos said. “I'm so proud of him. I just wish things weren't going to get so much harder. I can handle whatever, but he shouldn't have to carry my burdens. He's still so young.”

Nico was going to say something about Morpheus being thousands of years old, but he remembered that Hypnos had hypothetically been born at roughly the beginning of time, and Morpheus had been born sometime between the Trojan war and the time of Ovid's writing. No wonder Hypnos saw him as a child; the gulf between their ages was fairly immense.

“I'm trying to relax and not think about it. There's nothing I can do about the human population,” Hypnos said, tucking into some fried halloumi with a sigh.

Nico served himself some food, too, but as he ate, he was distracted with listening to the conversations around the table. The Furies were telling Hecate about their murder shows, Morpheus was already downloading games onto his new phone, and the judges were arguing with Hermes further down the table about how the minifridge worked. Unsurprisingly, they were dead certain it was functional despite Hermes' attempts to explain that it needed electricity to work.

Nico found that, to his surprise, he really did feel a sense of comraderie with them. He wouldn't have minded hanging out and chatting with them all day. It was nice to feel like he was part of a team and perhaps contributing to something larger than himself.

It was a shame he wouldn't be sticking around much longer once he resurrected Bianca. He was going to miss them all.

“Hey,” Hermes said. In typical Hermes fashion, he'd moved from one side of the room to another faster than Nico could see. He sat down across from Nico. “Long time no see. I didn't realize you were working here.”

“For the moment,” Nico said.

“You say that like you're going somewhere,” Hermes said, raising his eyebrows. “Leaving so soon?”

Nico felt weirdly unsettled by Hermes's questioning.

“Work peaks in sixty years, right?” Hermes continued. “That aligns pretty well with your projected lifespan. Seems like your old man would want to keep you on for at least that long. Maybe longer.”

“Longer?” Nico frowned.

“After you died, wouldn't you just keep working here like nothing had happened?” Hermes asked lightly.

The suggestion bothered Nico. That was totally out of line with all of his other plans, but he understood why Hermes had jumped to the conclusion. Minos, Aeacus, and Rhadamanthys had once been demigods, too, and now they were employed for eternity.

“Actually, I have other plans for my life and afterlife that don't involve working here forever,” Nico said. “It's no secret I'm resurrecting my sister Bianca, and then I'm out of here. We're out of here,” he corrected himself quickly.

“To do what?”

“Whatever she wants, I guess,” he said, thinking about her obligation to Artemis with dread.

“Wasn't she a hunter of Artemis?” Hermes said, picking up a carrot stick and crunching on it slowly, his eyes never leaving Nico.

“Mhm,” Nico said tersely.

“Seems to me the hunters of Artemis wouldn't care too much for draggin' a man around with them,” Hermes said, smirking at Nico as he emphasized the word 'draggin'.

Nico hesitated. He hated that Hermes obviously knew what happened with the dragons. His gut twisted with fear. If Hades found out the Olympians knew more about Nico than he did, he wouldn't be happy.

“I know it's complicated,” Nico said. “I'm just tackling one thing at a time.”

“Fair enough,” Hermes said, still looking amused in a way that made Nico nervous. If an Olympian was happy, it was probably at his expense, he knew instinctively. Hermes may have worked down here part time, but his demeanor made Nico suspect he didn't feel a sense of camaraderie.

“Are you and Thanatos the only psychopomps?” Nico asked.

“Yep,” Hermes said.

“That's not true,” Hypnos snapped. “Charon is one too.”

“Meh, he doesn't really count,” Hermes said.

Hypnos glared at Hermes, and Nico looked at Charon. He hadn't moved or made any sound, but Nico could tell he was hurt by Hermes' dismissal.

“You definitely count, Charon,” Nico said. “Sorry, I should have realized that before I asked. Um, anyway, Hermes, I was asking because I was wondering if Thanatos already knows about the population growth projections.”

The table went silent.

“Uh, no,” Hermes said. “And we've already decided we're not telling him.”

“Why not? Isn't it going to effect him more than anyone?” Nico asked.

“Yeah, which is why he can't find out,” Hermes said. “That guy is a weirdo; there's no telling how he'll react to big news like that.”

“Change is hard for old gods to cope with,” Hecate said. “Thanatos has been struggling for a long time as it is. It's not as though we know for certain the projections will come to pass. It would scare him needlessly.”

“Hypnos, you look like you don't agree,” Nico said.

Hypnos scratched behind his ear, looking like he'd rather talk about anyone else.

“It's true that my brother is sensitive and a little unpredictable lately,” he admitted. “I know him better than anyone, and I can't say how he'd react to the news. If he's going to hear it from anybody, it ought to be from our mother, but she's so detached from human affairs I think she'd laugh if we told her some scientists had predicted something with math, you know? So it's probably best to just drop it.” he said.

Beside him, Charon groaned quietly, and Nico sensed the two of them were of one mind. It seemed like Thanatos was an issue everyone would rather avoid, but something about it didn't seem right to Nico.

“Nico, dear, come here a moment,” Persephone called out.

“Coming!” Nico said. “Don't eat your phone, Charon,” Nico said, patting him on the shoulder and leaving.

Chapter Text

Nico went to the office where Persephone and Hades were waiting. Persephone was seated at her desk, working on her computer, and Hades had pulled his chair up beside her to look at her screen.

“You guys aren't eating with everyone else?” Nico asked.

“No, not this time,” Persephone said. “I wanted to do a postmortem and see if there was anything I could have improved in my presentation.”

“Improved? I thought you were perfect,” Nico said.

“Agreed,” Hades echoed him.

Persephone chuckled to herself.

“You boys are sweet. But I enjoy the challenge of trying to improve myself from time to time, even if it isn't necessary. Nico, I want to talk about the Necromanteion.” She clicked through a few pages of her spreadsheet. “How many other shades did you see there?”

“I'm not sure,” Nico said. “At least thirty or forty.”

“How did you get the one to return?” Hades asked.

“I just talked to her,” Nico said. “She tried to make a run for it a couple of times, but I managed to keep a hold of her.”

“How would you feel about bringing back the rest?” Persephone asked, smiling at Nico endearingly.

“Sure, no problem,” Nico said immediately.

“Fascinating,” Hades said dryly. “Immediate acquiescence, with no shouting or complaining? If I didn't know better I'd say you liked her better than me.”

“Duh,” Nico said. Persephone and Hades both laughed.

“Oh, Nico,” Persephone sighed, beckoning for him to walk closer to her. “I was so proud of you today. I don't have the words to describe my joy at having you here with us.” She reached up and cupped his cheek, looking into his face with affection. “Nico, there's something I want to tell you,” she said, swallowing hard.

“Yes?” Nico asked. Hades turned and looked at her curiously.

She hesitated, then seemed to think better of what she was going to say.

“It's alright. Go back to the meal with the others. I've kept you long enough,” she said, turning back to her computer screen.

What was it she'd wanted to say? Nico couldn't begin to guess, but he had an odd feeling it was something important. He walked out of the room and paused. On impulse, he ducked around the corner, shook his head to activate his earrings, and snuck back to the office, waiting just outside the door.

“What was that about?” Hades asked.

“Nothing important,” she said tersely.

“It sounded important. Is there something you aren't telling me?” Hades insisted. “Normally I let you keep your secrets, but if it involves him, don't you think I ought to know?”

She hesitated to answer. Nico peered around the door and managed to see her face. She looked... Guilty?

“You want to make him immortal, don't you,” Hades said softly. “I can read you like a book, my love.”

She turned to him.

“You can, can you?” She said. “Well, what do you think of the idea?”

“It's not worth discussing,” Hades said. “He'd turn it down. I doubt any of my children would have ever sought such a thing. It's against their nature.”

“You're sure about that?”

“Definitely,” Hades said. “Once this mess with Bianca is resolved, he'll want to be with his mother in Elysium. If you'd seen him when I brought him to visit her, you'd understand how important it is to him.”

Persephone heaved a sigh.

“I was afraid you'd say that,” she mumbled.

“You'll still be able to visit him,” Hades said. “Don't worry. Your little pet's not going anywhere.”

“He's not my little pet,” she said sharply. “He's my stepson. He's part of our family.”

“It's a nice sentiment, my love, but I want you to keep your expectations realistic,” Hades said. “He is only here so long as it suits him. He won't hesitate to betray us if he thinks it will help him revive Bianca.”

“You don't know that,” Persephone said.

“I do. His single minded devotion is a trait he gets from me,” Hades said, putting his arm around his wife's shoulders. “I'm sure you've noticed.”

Persephone nodded, her frustration and disappointment evident on her face.

“I don't want to talk about him anymore,” she said. “Here, look at this pivot table for me and tell me what you think.”

Nico snuck back out of the room and became visible again in the hallway. He'd had no idea Persephone liked him enough to make him immortal.

He was grateful to her, but he was even more grateful that his father had talked her out of it. Hades had been right. He wasn't planning on giving up eternity with his mother for anything. If not for Bianca, he might have already joined her eternal shopping trip by now.

His father understood him almost too well, Nico thought to himself. He recalled the deal he'd made with Artemis and felt a little less guilty knowing his dad expected him to do something like that. When the time came for Nico to steal Bianca from the Underworld's clutches and give her back to her patron goddess, Hades might not like it, but he'd understand. Hopefully he could help Persephone to understand, too. Nico wouldn't hope for any more than that. If they never spoke to him again, so be it.

He went back to the dining room and rejoined the group. Hermes had gone, and the atmosphere was much more relaxed without him. Nico attempted to explain to Minos and his brothers how a cell phone worked. He'd intended it to be a brief overview, but it wound up taking many hours to walk the judges through the process of making a single call. By the end of it, everyone had managed to dial his number at least once unassisted, and he thought that was pretty good progress.

Over the next few weeks, Nico busied himself with all of the various Underworld responsibilities he'd accumulated so far. He held more phone training sessions, went back and forth to the Necromanteion until all the shades were cleared out, and he distributed leaflets in Elysium about the poetry competition. He enjoyed the work, but more importantly, the tasks helped alleviate his guilt that he was eventually going to have to let Persephone down. He cared about her, even if he cared about Bianca more. He made time to see her frequently and talked to her about whatever she was in the mood to discuss, which ranged from advanced botany and demography research to her art, music, and fashion preferences in the modern era. She had him leave the Underworld a half dozen times to check on particular trees she wanted to Facetime with, but otherwise, they just spent quality time getting to know each other. Talking to her was like talking to someone he'd known forever, and he hated that he was keeping secrets from her.

Sometimes, when he looked at her, there was something behind her eyes he couldn't wrap his head around. She was a goddess, so that was normal. But he couldn't help but wonder whether she was keeping secrets from him, too.

As he worked in the Underworld, it slowly became evident that he had grown in his abilities quite a bit. Every spell he'd once struggled with now came as easily as breathing. For fun, he practiced manipulating stone, redesigning his furniture and rearranging his bedroom dozens of times. It helped that his furniture was mostly ebony and obsidian, which were challenging materials to work with. He liked challenging himself when no one was watching, when he could just relax and have fun with it.

He rarely saw his father without Persephone present, but on one occasion that he did, he asked whether he ought to go back to the manticore or try to make progress on his other chores. Hades told him that he ought to prioritize the tasks Persephone had given him, and worry about Hades' chores when it was just him around. That made sense to Nico, so he set those concerns aside, along with advancing his plans for Bianca. At least for a little while, he'd make Persephone happy. He owed her that much.

He slept regularly, each time hoping to encounter Maria Bova again, but he never saw her. He hoped it was a sign that things were better for her, but he weighed visiting, just in case. He just never seemed to find a good time, and there was always too much to do.

One day, he held another phone training on the banks of the Styx. Charon was the only attendee, and Nico was helping him set up an email account. The ferryman had indicated an interest in seeing the human population projections, but he needed an email address for the data to be sent directly to him. For some reason, his Styx app wasn't accessing the spreadsheets.

When he was finished talking with Charon, Aeacus came up and tapped him on the shoulder.

“I promised you a new sword trainer,” he said. “Today is the day.”

Nico followed him back to the judges stand, where the line of shades waiting for judgement had been put behind a rope divider. The judges had hung a sign on it that said, 'ON BREAK', and the shades had gathered behind the rope in a crowd of hundreds. Minos grabbed Nico's arm in excitement as he approached.

“This is an incredible opportunity for your training,” he said, looking the most excited Nico had ever seen him, which was to say, slightly. “Ask him every question that comes to mind, and try to absorb everything. This is probably the only chance you'll ever have to learn from him.”

“Who's him?” Nico asked, feeling perturbed by the unexpected change of plans. He'd forgotten all about sword training, hadn't been practicing, and was tempted to ask to reschedule.

“My grandson,” Aeacus said casually.

Nico wasn't sure why he was supposed to care about Aeacus's grandson coming to train him. Then he turned around and saw two shades approaching. One of the shades was bathed in the ethereal glow reserved for only the most powerful among the dead, like Orpheus, Dante, and the judges. The shade beside him glowed slightly less, and they walked hand in hand, slowly, through the crowds of Asphodel.

They were grown men in ancient Greek clothing, both appearing to be in the prime of their lives, one slightly taller, darker, and bearded, and other blonde and blue eyed, glowing like the sun. Their postures were relaxed, and their expressions only vaguely interested in what was going on around them.

“Aeacus, we have come to complete your request,” the taller man said, as Nico stared frozen in awe. “Who is this young hero?”

Minos shoved Nico in front of them immediately.

“Nico di Angelo, son of Hades,” Minos said. “He's a multi-talented lad, but no great master of the sword or spear. Any advice you can give him would be invaluable.”

Patroclus and Achilles both turned to look at Nico.

Nico thought he was going to pass out.

“Oh my god,” he said. “Sorry. Uh, hi. Sorry, I don't know what to say. It's actually you. I've heard so much about you.”

Achilles sighed, and Patroclus gave Nico a small, slightly sad smile.

“We're used to overwhelming our audience,” Patroclus said. “Take a moment to breathe.”

Nico had, in fact, forgotten to breathe, so the reminder was helpful.

“This is why you two needed the permit,” Aeacus said, smiling smugly. He seemed thrilled at Nico's reaction, obviously glad for the opportunity to show off his celebrity grandson.

“What was the permit for, if you don't mind me asking?” Nico asked.

“Privacy fencing for their villa in Elysium,” Aeacus said. “They had some break-ins by devoted fans.”

“Yes, and we appreciate your assistance in helping us preserve our hard-earned peace. But let us cut to the chase. What did the boy do to earn this favor from you?” Patroclus asked. Achilles gave Nico a look up and down, and raised his eyebrows skeptically.

“He fetched us a rare and coveted magical item,” Aeacus said. “Behold, gentlemen, the mini-fridge of the judges of the Underworld!” He smacked the fridge proudly, rattling the amphorae inside.

Patroclus and Achilles examined the mini-fridge closely. Nico prayed fervently that they wouldn't know what it was or that it could be fetched from appliance stores worldwide with relative ease.

“Fascinating,” Achilles said, the first word he'd spoken since his arrival.

While they discussed the fridge, Nico glanced up at the palace and thought of his father. They'd read the Iliad together during their reading sessions, and Hades knew it back to front. He'd spoken often of his admiration for Achilles' skill in battle.

Nico was probably about to get the most humiliating beatdown of his life. His father would be devastated if he missed it.

Nico whistled for Cerberus, who came bounding up to him excitedly.

“Go and fetch Hades,” he told the monstrous canine. Cerberus bounded off again, barking and scaring the shades as he ran through the fields.

“I see Cerberus has affection for you,” Achilles said. Nico turned, and grew nervous again under the intense gaze of the great hero. “Tell me, are your skills with the sword as poor as my grandfather claims?”

“Worse, probably,” Nico said. “But I'm also out of practice. I can't train with my sword, or I risk destroying my trainer.”

He summoned the Stygian iron sword and showed it to Achilles.

“Grandfather told us about that. Not to fear. You will not touch me,” Achilles said confidently.

“Are you sure? Not even by some freak accident?” Nico asked. “If I destroyed you, I don't think that would go over well.”

“You won't touch him, lad,” Patroclus assured him calmly. “I'd never let him risk his immortal soul if I thought it were possible,” he added, smiling at Achilles fondly.

“One thing you must know before we begin,” Achilles said sternly, a celestial bronze spear appearing in his hand. “I do not hold back in combat. I won't allow you to, either. You need to come at me with everything you've got.”

“Oh. Okay. Feel free to kill me. If you want. I mean, I'd rather you didn't, but if you do that's totally cool. Don't worry about it. I'm on the no-ride list, so I can't actually die, I'd just die later. Not that it matters that much, since I'm already here,” he said.

“Please stop talking,” Achilles said, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.

“I'm starting the timer,” Patroclus said, pulling an hourglass from his pocket. “You get five minutes.”

“Halt!” Hades shouted, appearing between Achilles and Nico in a shimmer of shadow. “No one is starting any timers until I get a picture of the two of you together. Nico, get next to Achilles.”

He took a few dozen photos of Nico smiling excitedly next to Achilles.

“Lord Hades, if you could hurry, I'd like to get back to my afterlife,” Achilles said with annoyance.

“I am sorry,” Hades said, actually seeming slightly regretful about it. “But I must insist you let me film this, and I need to find a good angle.”

“Persephone couldn't come?” Nico asked, as his father circled, looking for camera angles.

“She is talking with Nyx and asked that I not disturb them,” he said. “She'll be devastated if I don't get a good video of this. Alright,” he said, pausing, holding his phone sideways and bending slightly. “That will suffice. Proceed.”

Achilles raised his spear.

“Starting the timer,” Patroclus said.

“Wait,” Minos cut in. “Just so we use his time efficiently, what if we focus on a particular move rather than demonstrating multiple?”

“I'm not demonstrating anything,” Achilles said. “I'll attack, and he'll learn by blocking them.”

“Blocking your attacks?” Minos said, biting his lip. “Erm, I'm not sure he's ready to handle--”

“Do you know how many myrmidons I trained?” Achilles snapped. “I know how to do this. Just let me work, damn it.”

“I'm starting the timer for real now,” Patroclus said firmly. “Go ahead, Achilles.”

What happened next was a blur. Achilles moved like a whirlwind. He'd smacked Nico with the side of the spear before he could even register what had happened.

“Pay attention,” Achilles said. “Don't just stare at me, move.”

He attacked over and over again, and Nico floundered. He was hit from every direction at once, it seemed. Achilles wasn't stabbing him with the blade at the end of the spear, but Nico was getting bruises and nicks every time, and they hurt.

“You can do it!” Minos said encouragingly. Hades' flash kept going off. Nico was hopelessly distracted.

“Three more minutes,” Patroclus warned.

Achilles came at Nico faster and more aggressively, knocking him down onto the hard stone of the platform. He slammed the spear down into the floor millimeters from Nico's ribcage, his bronze speartip leaving a thin graze down his side.

“You aren't taking this seriously,” he said viciously. “Stop holding back and show me what you're capable of.”

“Sorry,” Nico said, rising. “I wasn't prepared for this. If we only have a couple of minutes left, I'd rather just talk to you.”

“No,” Achilles snapped. “Sparring or nothing.”

Nico obliged him, making his best effort to fend off his next attack, which came lightning fast and mercilessly. He was knocked to the ground again, hitting even harder.

“You're disrespecting me as your opponent, flopping around on the ground like a fish,” Achilles said, glaring down at him. “This can't be the best you can do.”

“I warned you I'm not good at this,” Nico said, jumping up to his feet quickly. “I'm not forcing you to spar with me.”

“You're a sad excuse for a demigod if this is all you've got.”

Nico was taken aback, and he could see in his peripheral vision that the judges were muttering among themselves. Hades just looked amused.

“Seriously? That's not fair,” Nico said, growing a little defensive. “You don't even know me.”

“You're showing me exactly who you are,” Achilles said, slashing at Nico. This time Nico shadow traveled to move away, determined not to be knocked down again so easily. That made Achilles' eyes light up.

“You're a spoiled little prince,” Achilles continued. “Not the first I've dealt with, and not the last. You're a pathetic waste of my time.”

Nico didn't care that he was being humiliated in front of his father, who appeared to be loving every second of it, but he hated that he was reflecting poorly on Minos as his trainer. More than that, he was feeling deeply disappointed. He wasn't sure what he'd expected Achilles to be like, but it hadn't been this.

“You couldn't just be patient with me for five minutes and let my father get some pictures? You have the rest of eternity! Your time is literally worthless!” Nico said. As Achilles made to attack him, he shadow traveled out of the way, again and again. Achilles almost got him with one insanely fast anticipatory stroke of his spear, but Nico raised a stone block from the ground to protect himself. Achilles' spear scraped against it, sliding off.

“Quit whining. You know I'm right,” Achilles rebutted. “There's no point in you learning from me. You're scrawny, hopeless, and full of excuses! You will never be known as a hero. You must be a great disappointment to your father.”

“I know,” Nico agreed. “But I'm fine with that. At least I'm not a spoiled brat who begs his mother for help the second I don't get my way.”

“How dare you!” Achilles said angrily. He threw his spear at Nico, but Nico shadow traveled out of the way. Aeacus had to run and grab it to give it back to Achilles, and during the brief pause, Nico seriously thought Achilles might try to strangle him, he looked so angry.

Once he had his spear back, Achilles moved to attack Nico once again. Nico rolled his eyes, evading him.

“Will you just stop? I don't want your help anymore,” Nico said, now on the other side of him, coming dangerously close to the angry myrmidon. He didn't have any desire to try to slash Achilles with his Stygian sword, just on the off chance he might succeed, but it made him feel better to demonstrate that it was possible that he might be able to. “You're a jerk,” Nico added bitterly. “This is exactly why they tell people not to meet their heroes-- Hey! I told you to stop!” Nico snapped. Achilles had thrust at him with the spear again, and when Nico moved out of the way, Achilles had slammed into him, trying to shove him off the judgement platform. “What is wrong with you?” Nico said. Achilles had grabbed him with his big, meaty arms, which might have been kind of nice in a different context, but in this case he was really hurting Nico. Nico had no intention of getting thrown off the platform, and he just focused on wriggling out of Achilles' grip, intending to shadow travel. Instead, he stepped backwards and Achilles slipped right through him.

Nico took another step back and realized that he hadn't shadow traveled at all. If he had, Achilles would have gone with him. He'd just escaped somehow.

That was new. He didn't have any time to think about what had just happened, however. Achilles attacked him again in a fury. The guy was absolutely relentless, and Nico was sure their timer had run out a while ago. Patroclus had probably turned it off so that Achilles could continue to work out his anger issues.

Achilles' spear flashed like lightning, and he moved with graceful purpose, but he kept missing Nico. Nico glanced at their audience, looking only for the briefest of seconds, since there was a crazy ghost trying to kill him. Nobody seemed bothered by the fact that he'd asked to stop and was still getting slashed at.

The tiny moment of inattention was a big mistake. Achilles tripped him with the spear, knocking his feet out from under him. Nico went down hard.

“That's what you get for not paying attention to me,” Achilles said. He made to stab him with the spear, but Nico did what he'd done earlier and just disappeared.

Well, he sort of disappeared, and he sort of didn't. He didn't go anywhere, he just stopped being totally solid for a second. The spear clanked against the stone, and Nico rolled to the side and got up before Achilles had a chance to withdraw his spear and comprehend what had happened.

“Maybe I should find Hector and ask him to train me,” Nico said, feeling a lot safer since he'd figured out how to do that. “I bet he'd be nicer.”

Achilles glared, and said, “Maybe I should find your sister and train her instead.”

Nico had been keeping his emotions somewhat under control throughout the encounter. That now went out the window.

“Don't you dare talk about my sister!” Nico shouted.

“You really thought you could bring her back to life? You're making a fool of yourself,” Achilles said. “She's dead. Get over it already.”

“You have no idea what you're talking about!” Nico said. He sent a ribbon of darkness to wrap around Achilles' throat and start choking him. “I'm not going to stand here and take abuse from a war criminal who desecrated the body of a hero. You don't deserve to be in Elysium.”

Choking didn't exactly work on people who were already dead, but Nico hoped it would be a humbling experience in spite of that. He broke Achilles' spear and encased his body in rock.

“We're done here,” Nico said angrily. “You should have stopped when I told you to stop. Who do you think you are? Does this look like Troy to you? You're dead! You don't get to do whatever you want anymore. You also went way past the five minutes we agreed on, which was not cool, and you didn't teach me anything! Why are you smiling at me? Do you think this is funny?”

“Yes,” Achilles said, his eyes bright with humor. “I enjoyed that. Thank you.”

Nico stepped back, his eyes widening.

“You know I can't feel real anger or battle-frenzy any longer, right?” Achilles said, raising his eyebrows.

Nico released him from the stone and shadow he'd been stuck in and watched Achilles step out of it. Patroclus came up to him, also looking pleased.

“Were you just faking?” Nico asked, completely shocked.

“I'm a good actor, right?” Achilles said.

“He's had a lot of practice with the real thing,” Patroclus said.

“But that was horrible,” Nico said. “Is this some kind of a sick joke? Why would you do that?”

“Partly because it was fun,” Achilles said. “And partly because I could tell at a glance you were no good with the sword. You were holding back your other abilities, which I think we all wanted to see for ourselves.”

“Your powers are fascinating,” Patroclus said. “I've never seen anyone quite like you.”

“That's to be expected,” Minos said, hurrying to Nico's side. “He's only the fifth child of Hades to ever exist. We all watch his progress with great interest. Thank you for helping him showcase his abilities, Achilles. I appreciate you taking the time.”

“Not a problem,” Patroclus said.

“Come see us sometime,” Achilles said to Nico.

Nico felt mentally and emotionally exhausted. He waved goodbye to Achilles and Patroclus, and Aeacus left to walk them back to Elysium. Rhadamanthys removed the barrier and let the shades line up for judgement again. Nico glanced after his father, but he'd wandered off with Cerberus toward the river.

“Are you alright?” Minos asked Nico.

“Not really,” Nico snapped. “Did you know it was going to be like that?”

“I didn't realize until he started taunting you,” Minos said. “I don't know anything about myrmidons, but Aeacus told me it's a tactic of theirs. He was just assessing your skills. It's nothing to be upset about.”

“Maybe I didn't want to be assessed,” Nico said. “I didn't even get a chance to prepare.”

“Are you upset?”

“Minos, I was terrible,” Nico said, “Don't pretend I wasn't. I wasn't able to get anywhere near him.”

“He's dead, but he's still Achilles,” Minos said, amused. “Don't tell your father I told you this, but he spars for entertainment in Elysium sometimes. I've seen him reduce legendary warriors to tears with his prowess. You demonstrated impressive skill.”

“Yeah, well, I'm not sure I believe you,” Nico said.

“You subdued him, did you not?”

“That wasn't the same,” Nico said. “He's just a shade. I could do anything I wanted to him down here. If he was alive, and we were on the surface, I'd have been killed in seconds.”

“I'm not so sure about that, but let's not speak of it any longer,” Minos said. “You made your trainer proud. Let that be enough.”

Minos smiled at him, and reached out as if he meant to touch Nico's face. Then he glanced over his shoulder and stopped.

“You should talk to your father,” he said, touching Nico's arm instead. “I'll get back to work.”

Nico's stomach flipped over when he touched him, but before he could say anything, he'd walked away. Why did Minos have to be so nice and handsome and unattainable? It just wasn't fair.

Nico strolled up the bank of the Styx for a while, watching the familiar, comforting motion of the dark water and taking a moment to process what had happened.

After a few minutes of walking, he saw Hades up ahead, sitting with Cerberus by the river. Cerberus was lapping up Styx water with one of his heads and looking back at Nico with another. The third was on Hades' lap.

Hades didn't look up at Nico as he approached. Nico watched as his father methodically brushed Cerberus's coat. From a distance the large dog appeared to be black, but if you looked closely, he was more of a reddish brown brindle coloring. Long dark hairs were flying off of him as Hades brushed him with gentle but firm strokes.

“Hi,” Nico said.

“Hello,” Hades said. It was odd to see the normally tall and imposing god sitting on the ground, dwarfed by an oversized mastiff monster, and Nico found the image kind of funny.

“What did you think?” Nico asked.

“Oh, are we interested in my opinion now?” Hades said sarcastically. “I didn't think you cared.”

“Maybe I don't,” Nico said. “Maybe I was just asking to be polite and I don't really want to know.”

He sat on the other side of Cerberus and tried to pet his middle head, but instead the one that had been drinking Styx water pulled his head out of the river and plunked it on Nico's lap.

“Ow,” Nico said, feeling the burn of the water that Cerberus had just drenched him in. He was getting used to the feeling now. He rubbed the dog's big, stinky head and let him lick his hand.

“Now that you've met them, you might be able to visit Patroclus and Achilles in Elysium,” Hades said, ignoring Nico's question.

“I'm not sure why I'd bother. I didn't really enjoy meeting them the first time,” Nico said.

“They receive very few guests. It's a rare opportunity.”

“Apparently they hold sparring matches at their house,” Nico said. “That can't be right. The losers would have a bad experience, wouldn't they?”

“Why do you think I want you to visit them?” Hades said. “I need their little fight club investigated and shut down. You're not opposed to wearing a wire, are you?”

Nico sighed. The to-do list never ended.

“I can visit them the next time I go to Elysium to check on the poetry contest. I should see Mama while I'm there,” he added. “That's alright if I stay invisible, right?”

“You ask as though you did not peek in on her the last time you were there,” Hades said, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh. Yeah, I guess I did do that.” Nico had snuck a brief look, invisibly, but he'd thought no one noticed. “I just wanted to make sure she was still okay.”

“Very little occurs in this realm that does not get back to me, one way or the other,” Hades said.

“I know,” Nico said. He worried suddenly that Hades would have heard about the dragons he'd fought for Artemis, and the true purpose of the lunula he'd brought home, but there was no sign of accusation in his father's face.

“Your demeanor with Achilles was quite interesting to observe,” Hades said. “You seemed more competent than it seems you have a right to be. That gave rise to my suspicion.”

“Suspicion?”

“I'll be blunt. Have you been training with someone other than Minos and Hecate?”

“No!” Nico said. “Not at all.” He was glad to be able to be honest about this one thing, at least. “Isis taught me a couple of spells once, but that was it.”

“I would know if you'd left the Underworld. All of your comings and goings have been accounted for,” Hades said, turning and giving Nico his full attention. He set the brush down. “Has Hermes been training you?”

“No, absolutely not,” Nico said. “What would he even be teaching me?”

“He is a psychopomp. I thought he'd have been a natural person to ask for assistance in your quest.”

“Oh. No, I didn't bring it up,” Nico said. “Maybe I'm paranoid, but I don't trust him.”

“Paranoia is both healthy and rational,” Hades said, which made perfect sense to Nico. “Hence my questions. I grew suspicious when I realized I had not heard anything about your investigations into Bianca since the staff meeting. There was a time when I thought you'd tell your tragic backstory to every god and monster both here and on the surface, but you abruptly stopped. There must have been a reason.”

Hades was so annoying sometimes. He could be moody and defensive and stubborn. He had a temper and was very strict about things like respect, duty, and chores. He had good qualities, but most of them were reserved for Persephone, and Nico felt like he just got the leftovers. If they weren't related, his dad was the type of guy Nico would cross the street to avoid.

Unfortunately, Hades also understood Nico equally well, if not better. Nico didn't like what that probably said about their similar qualities. He didn't want them to have anything in common if he could help it.

There was no point trying to hide the truth from him.

“I heard what she said,” he admitted.

“I knew it,” Hades hissed. “Eavesdropping in my own palace! You have a lot of nerve.”

“I know,” Nico said, looking down at Cerberus' head in his lap to avoid his dad's angry expression. “But I don't regret it. I took a break from my quest for Bianca so I could focus on doing the things Persephone wanted me to do instead. It was the least I could do, since she... You know.”

There was an unspoken understanding between them when it came to Persephone. Nico knew Hades wouldn't punish him for what he'd done.

“That was a good decision,” Hades said. “You should let Bianca go and focus on serving Persephone full time, if you truly want to please her.”

“That's the one thing I can't do,” Nico said. “But anything short of that, I'll try.”

Hades sighed, saying nothing.

“It feels like I tricked her into loving me,” Nico said. “I don't deserve it.”

Hades remained silent. He ran a hand across Cerberus' coat, scratching the middle head behind the ears while the left head licked his face.

“No, you don't,” Hades said finally, after a long pause for thought.

He left it at that. Nico wasn't offended; he doubted Hades thought anyone deserved Persephone, including himself.

“So what am I supposed to do?” Nico said. “She wouldn't force me to become immortal, would she?”

“Never,” Hades said, rising and brushing dog hair off his clothes. “She knows it's against your wishes. I have no advice for you. You've already demonstrated your priorities are in the right place, at least for the moment. However, I do have a new order. You need to busy yourself elsewhere for the second and third weeks of March.”

“Why? Didn't you just say you wanted me to prioritize doing what she wants?”

“She leaves for spring on the twenty first,” he said. “I have no interest in sharing her limited time with you.”

Nico checked his phone.

“That's so soon!”

“I know all too well,” Hades said. “And what perfect timing for you to perform an extra chore as punishment for eavesdropping.”

“Papa,” Nico whined. “Come on. I didn't even do the manticore one yet! And that's not even on the original list!”

“You can get the manticore spikes too. Thank you for reminding me. As for the new chore... I'll call you when I think of something.”

Chapter Text

On his last day in the Underworld, Nico made sure to give Persephone a very heartfelt goodbye. Neither of them made a big deal about it, but he could tell she would miss him almost as much as he would miss her. If you'd told him years ago that he'd feel this affectionately toward his divine stepmother, he'd have died laughing. Life was strange.

He walked out of the palace, planning on running one final errand before leaving for the surface. He'd been working on his plan in the back of his mind, and was confident he could make the most of the two weeks before he'd be expected back in the Underworld. Those two weeks were probably the most distracted Hades would be all year, which meant that it was the perfect time to work on resurrecting Bianca.

His next step was to ask Thanatos about the Doors of Death, since they were the obstacle preventing Bianca from leaving. At this point, Nico had spent years in the Underworld, but he hadn't seen Thanatos once. Everyone said the god of death was rarely around, and secluded himself in his cave anytime he wasn't collecting souls.

Nico went to have a chat with Minos before he looked for Thanatos. The judges were in a rush trying to process a backlog of shades, and Nico had pulled up a chair beside Minos to talk it over in between judgements. Minos was the tie-breaker, so he had a few breaks to try to answer Nico's questions.

“The doors of death, hm?” Minos said, his attention half on Nico and half on the shade currently standing on the judges' stand, trembling in fear. He'd been an investment banker, a staunch atheist who thought altruism was a myth. Nico couldn't blame him for his nerves.

“Do you know anything about them?” Nico said. “I doubt Thanatos will help me. Everyone says he's a nightmare to deal with. I need to know as much as possible before I talk to him.”

“I don't know anything about the doors, no. Not my department. And nightmare is putting it strongly,” Minos said. “He's just a little stand-offish.”

“He's an asshole,” Aeacus said. “I don't like him.” He frowned at the investment banker's shade and made the gesture for Asphodel, with the addition of punishment.

“What is that for?” Minos asked.

“He returned a rescue dog to the shelter,” Aeacus said. “Only gave the poor pup 48 hours. Dogs need more time to settle in.”

“So he needs to be whipped?” Rhadamanthys asked incredulously. “I don't think so.” He made the gesture for Asphodel with no punishment.

Minos sighed, and agreed with Rhadamanthys, stamping the paperwork for Asphodel. The banker stumbled off the stand and disappeared into the crowd of shades in the fields, looking relieved.

“Well, Nico, I wish I had better advice for you,” Minos said, as he filled out the soul processing paperwork to complete the transfer. “I barely know Thanatos. He's a lot like his mother, Nyx. Very detached, keeps to himself, and not often seen.”

“But Nyx is cool,” Nico said. “She hugged me once. There must be something I can do for Thanatos. Maybe a gift I can give him? His mom really likes martyr bones. Would he want some, too?”

“I don't think Thanatos has ever wanted anything,” Minos said. He stamped the form and set it aside, waving up the next shade to the stand. “I'm sorry, I wish I could help more.”

“No, you're busy, it's okay. I can figure it out.” Nico watched Minos start to fill out another form. He could watch him write all day. His thick muscled wrists and ringed fingers formed the lines of the ancient Minoan hieroglyphs smoothly and efficiently. Nico couldn't read a word, but it looked very pretty.

He clasped Minos on the shoulder affectionately, thanked him again, and disappeared into shadow.

He stood outside Hypnos's cave and watched the small stream of Lethe water trickle past his feet. He wasn't sure why he was so nervous to meet Thanatos, but his stomach was doing flips.

He looked up towards the entrance to Thanatos's cave home, carved out of the rock to the left of Hypnos' cave and slightly above it. It was too dark to see anything but an empty black hole.

Nico shadow traveled up to it and stood just inside the entrance. All he saw was darkness. Maybe that shouldn't shock him, given that Thanatos had so much in common with his mother, but it was hard to imagine living in such pitch blackness all the time.

“Hello?” he called out. There was no answer.

Feeling confident no one was there, he turned on his phone flashlight. What he saw surprised him. There was almost nothing in the cave. Everywhere he turned, ebony walls reflected his own blurry face back at him. He did see some torches, so he turned off his phone light and magically lit them.

A dozen torches encircled the room, hanging upside down. The flames glowed pale white, and they illuminated the chamber brilliantly. Only, there was nothing to illuminate. There was no furniture, no art, no sleeping baby gods in hammocks anywhere.

Something caught Nico's eye. He knelt on the stone floor and looked closely at it, seeing strange markings marring the otherwise shining and flawless surface. Someone had carved something into the stone.

It took a second for Nico to realize he was looking at the outlines of hundreds of tiny butterflies carved into the rock. They were carved very lightly, and were barely noticeable unless you were looking for them. The images they made were hard to make out because they overlapped, seeming to form strange patterns.

Nico ran his fingers over the markings, tracing the wings of the butterflies. He tried to picture a stern, winged god lying on his stomach on this cold floor, carefully scratching hundreds of butterflies one by one.

Nico laid on the floor for hours, staring at the pattern. He traced hundreds butterflies with the tips of his fingers and imagined what it would be like to be Thanatos, collecting thousands of souls and finally coming home to this empty, dark, cold room full of nothing. He couldn't fathom doing that for eternity and not losing his mind.

He sat up and checked his phone. He'd waited a long time, and there was no sign of the death god yet. With a last glance around, Nico left the Underworld.

He stepped out of the shadow of a tree in the Borghese Gardens in Rome. It was mid-March, and the sun was setting. The gardens were bathed in a perfect golden light. He sat under a tree, breathing in a deep breath of surface air. It had been a while since he'd smelled as many living plants and trees as this. He leaned his head back, taking it all in and feeling the waning sunlight warm his face.

Persephone was preparing to leave for spring again. Looking up, he could see the tiny buds peppering the tree limbs above him, all of nature trembling in anticipation of her return. They wouldn't have to wait much longer. The speed of time terrified him. He didn't want Bianca to be dead a moment longer than she had to be, but the days were passing like sand slipping through his fingers.

He hadn't seen his sister in over four years.

That was in surface time. Time in the Underworld was different. Sometimes it seemed like it moved in circles, and sometimes it seemed like it skipped ahead too far by mistake and then went backwards for a while to catch up to where it was supposed to be. He had no idea how long it had really been for him. He didn't look any different than he had when he'd woken up from his coma, so it couldn't have been that long.

He really hoped Bianca hadn't felt the years passing. If she had to be stuck in Asphodel, hiding and waiting and whatever else she was doing, he hoped she wasn't suffering.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

“Bianca, I miss you,” he said quietly. “I don't know what to do with myself without you around. I just want to show you stuff, and take you places, and have fun like we used to. I want to show you Beijing and Istanbul and Greece. We can go back to Venice together. I guess we'd need to find a way to get your memories back, but we can figure it out. As long as we're together, everything will be okay. I just need you back.”

He didn't hear her voice, and he didn't feel her presence. There was nothing, just birdsong and the city noise and the sound of families enjoying an evening in the park.

A terrible thought drifted through his mind, unwanted and unwelcome: That he had not meant what he'd just said.

“Who's Bianca?” A young woman's voice said from above him. He glanced up and saw a dryad looking down at him, blinking large green eyes in a green tinged face. She reminded him of Eurydice, but this one spoke Latin and was probably far younger than her famous cousin.

“My sister,” he sighed. “She's dead. I'm trying to bring her back to life.”

“Cool,” the dryad said. “They say Asclepius used to bring people back from the dead.”

“Asclepius?” Nico said, frowning. “I'm sure it looked that way to the mortals, but I think he was just a really good healer. I've been researching this long enough to know.”

“Oh. Probably,” she agreed. “He just came to mind because his statue is over there,” she pointed.

Nico looked in the direction she was pointing. On the far side of a duck pond, there was indeed a large shrine to Asclepius, with his name in Greek printed across it.

“Does he come here often?” Nico asked, thinking it wouldn't hurt to pick his brain just in case.

She giggled with a sound like creaking branches.

“You haven't heard? No one has seen him in decades,” she said. “He's lost.”

Another lead that wouldn't go anywhere. Nico waved goodbye to the Nymph and strolled around the gardens for a while, deep in thought. His next lead would be Nyx, since Thanatos hadn't shown. He'd need to ask for her help with the doors of death. He didn't intend to go to her empty-handed. Last time, he'd tried to bring her martyr bones, specifically the bones of Saint Valentine. Instead he'd handed her normal bones and made himself look stupid. This time he'd leave zero room for error.

He traveled to the front of the basilica of Santa Maria in Cosmedin, where many months ago he'd encountered Saint Valentine in a very painful confrontation. Back then, trying to steal the saint's skull out of its display case had been ambitious and highly stupid. Nico had changed since then. He had new abilities, and he was certain he could sneak past Saint Valentine now.

He obscured himself with the mist so that mortals wouldn't see him activate his invisibility earrings and disappear from view. Once he'd become invisible, he also became intangible in order to walk straight through the crowd of tourists waiting in line to stick their hands in the Bocca della Verita. He was still getting used to the new ability, but it seemed really useful so far.

Once inside the church doors, he hurried over to the niche on the left side, where Valentine's skull was displayed in a small glass case.

It glowed with intense power. His skin prickled at the thought of touching it with his bare hands. Nyx couldn't say no to any request he might make of her if he gave her a prize like this one.

He glanced over his shoulder to check whether he was being watched, but there was no sign of anyone. Hesitation could only bring more risk, so he swallowed his fears and reached for the skull. He became intangible just before his fingers touched the glass case, and reached in further, holding his hands around the skull and feeling the intense power wash over him like he was holding a miniature version of the sun itself. Now he just had to figure out whether he was brave enough to grab it.

Before he could decide how to proceed, a dark figure rose behind the glass case. It was a familiar tall, stern man with greying dark hair framed by a golden halo glowing glaringly bright in the dim light of the church. Nico's stomach sank.

“You are one very determined young man,” Saint Valentine said. His voice was gentle, yet terrifying at the same time, like the kind of person that would hit you and then say, 'It pains me to do this.'

“Hi,” Nico said, not sure what else he was supposed to say. He didn't have any excuse to make; he'd simply been caught red handed.

“Determined,” Valentine repeated, “But unwise. First you tried to rob me. I caught you and let you go, showing you mercy. Then you rob me in Lesbos instead.”

“Those weren't your bones,” Nico said, looking him in the eyes and trying not to lose his cool. Valentine hadn't done anything yet, but his ears were ringing with the memory of the pain he'd suffered at his hands last time. He reminded himself that he'd changed; he could get out of it this time. Valentine had an intimidating presence, certainly, but Nico had killed dragons. He'd fought Achilles. He could handle this.

“It's the principle of the thing,” Valentine said coolly. “Now you've come back to try again. I can't imagine why you thought that was a good idea.”

It hadn't been, obviously, Nico thought, but he didn't bother replying. It was time to get the hell out of there.

He stepped away from the skull case and shadow traveled out of the church, but instead of slipping away in shadow to a safe location, he found himself smacking against the front doors. He fell back on the ground, his head spinning. He dug his fingers into the carpet that ran down the center of the nave, looking around frantically. Those doors had been open the last he'd checked, and there had been mortals in the church. Now he couldn't see anyone but Valentine, who was observing him with a look of amusement.

Nico tried to shadow travel again, to the same result. Then he became intangible and tried to walk through the doors, and then the walls. He could pass through furniture, but not through any exterior walls or flooring.

“How are you doing this?” He asked Valentine. He was panicking, and his fight or flight response was beginning to give up on flight, but he couldn't muster up any will to fight Valentine. He had no clue what the saint was capable of, and his stare of slight amusement gave Nico an indication that he definitely did not see Nico as a threat.

Valentine stepped into the central nave and gestured at Nico. Nico felt something shift within him, and was overcome with a strange feeling that something was seriously wrong.

“Come along,” Valentine said, grabbing him by the collar. Nico tried to pull out of his grip, but Valentine's strength was incredible. Either that, or Nico was suddenly weak as a kitten for some reason. He tried to become intangible and found that nothing was happening. His chest grew tight, and he started hyperventilating.

“What did you do to me?” He gasped.

“Sealed your powers,” Valentine said. “You clearly don't know how to use them responsibly.”

Nico was suddenly marched down a flight of stairs and unceremoniously shoved into a dark cell. The door was slammed behind him, and glowed with an image of a strange golden seal once it clicked shut, as if to remind him once more that his magic would be useless against it. Not that he had any magic left.

Nico pressed his hands against the door anyway, pressing his forehead against the stone.

“I'm such a fucking idiot,” he muttered.

“I feel you,” a man's voice said from behind him.

Nico spun around. There was someone in the cell with him.

“A new cellmate, huh?” the man said, shifting in the darkness. “That'll liven this place up.”

He had a deep, resonant voice, and Nico could make out the figure of a tall and broad shouldered man with the physique of a pro-wrestler sitting on an overturned bucket in the corner.

“What's your name, kid?” He asked in a curious and friendly manner.

“Nico di Angelo,” Nico said. There was something about the man's speech that bothered him. It took him a second to realize what it was.

“You're speaking Latin,” Nico said.

“I am,” the man agreed.

“How long have you been down here?” Nico started to panic. Was he going to be imprisoned for that long? He was on the no-ride list-- what if his dad forgot to take him off of it and he was trapped in that cell for a thousand years?

His cellmate started laughing, a deep, booming laugh that shook the walls.

“Don't worry,” he said, switching to modern Italian. “I promise it hasn't been that long. I think it's been three weeks or so.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I have to listen to mass every Sunday,” he said, glancing upward resentfully. “It's only been three. I addressed you in Latin because I assumed you were a god, too.” He squinted at Nico. “Guess not, unless I just haven't heard of you.”

“I'm a son of Hades,” Nico said.

“A demigod! I remember those days,” he grinned. “Fighting monsters, having adventures, winning renown. Well, the good times didn't last,” he added sadly. “But still. It wasn't all bad.”

“You're Hercules,” Nico said, remembering reading that the church had been built on top of one of his temples.

“You sound like you're disappointed.”

“I am. Not that it isn't an honor to meet you, but if you're stuck in here, there's no hope of me getting out.”

Hercules tsked.

“Have I been able to escape? No. Did I try everything I could think of? Yes. Does Valentine come down here and laugh at me sometimes? You bet he does. But that is no excuse for giving up!” He declared. “Now that you're here, I have a new resource at my disposal. That means we've got a chance at getting out of here together.”

“I guess that's one way to look at it,” Nico said, not very comforted.

“You and me? We're getting out of this joint,” Hercules said. “Just hit the ground twice and call your dad.”

“What? Oh, no, please don't make me do that,” Nico said.

“Why not?”

“Spring is in a couple of weeks and he kicked me out so he can have Persephone to himself. If I bug him now, I'll never hear the end of it.”

“Well, I can't exactly call Jupiter,” Hercules said stubbornly. “He's in Thailand with Ganymede and he didn't take his phone.”

“You must have other connections.”

“There are very few gods who can compete with the power of a martyr in his own temple this close to the Vatican,” Hercules said, his expression turning glum. “Outside the big three, and maybe Venus, I wouldn't have a lot of hope.”

“So, Venus and Poseidon,” Nico said. “Are those options?”

“I called Poseidon. He said his service was bad and he couldn't hear me. Pretty sure he was making ocean noises into the phone,” Hercules said. “I didn't try Venus, but I doubt she'd even take my call.”

“I've never met her,” Nico said. “But maybe it's worth a try?”

Hercules pulled out his phone and dialed her number. He and Nico sat, waiting tensely.

“Hello?” She answered.

“Venus! Good to hear your voice,” Hercules said, grinning in triumph. “Listen, I need a little favor. I'm trapped in the basement of a temple in Rome. Not one of ours...”

“You mean a church,” Venus said dryly. “Remind me, what was it Jupiter said about churches... Let me think... Pretty sure he said we ought to stay away from them at all costs, and if we disobey, we're on our own. Wasn't that what he said? What do you think, Hercules?”

Her voice sounded sweet and charming even through the phone, and Nico was immediately filled with goodwill towards her, although the content of what she was saying wasn't what he had hoped to hear.

“You're totally right,” Hercules said, “It was stupid of me, but now I'm stuck here with a kid named Nico and we need an extraction, ASAP.”

“Nico? I've heard about him,” she said, perking up. “I'm curious to get a look at him in person. Where are you?”

“Santa Maria in Cosmedin,” Hercules said, giving Nico an excited thumbs up.

There was a click.

“She hung up,” Hercules said, staring at his phone.

“Damn,” Nico said, disappointed. He and Hercules sat in silence for a moment.

“Okay, small setback, but we're moving forward,” Hercules said. He smiled at Nico, and Nico felt his spirits lifted by Hercules' positive attitude. It made sense that Hercules would have an indomitable force of will, since he'd overcome so much in his mortal life. If Nico had to be trapped here with someone, he was glad it was him.

“Tell me about yourself. What you can do, how strong you are, what sort of tricks you've got up your sleeve as a son of Hades.”

Nico explained his abilities and how they'd failed him as soon as Valentine had placed that seal on him. He could feel it like a binding wrapped around his chest, preventing him from connecting with his divine blood.

“Yeah, I've got one of those too, or these walls would have been smashed a long time ago,” Hercules said. “I'm reduced to the strength of a mortal man, so this is my progress,” he said, pointing at a place where he'd been trying to punch a hole in the wall. He'd made a fairly deep indentation in the stone, but Nico could see the dried ichor on the outside of his knuckles.

“We need the seals removed,” Nico said.

“That would be great,” Hercules agreed.

Nico slumped against the wall, his brain running through a hundred different terrible ideas.

“It's no use,” he sighed. “I've got nothing. I just-- This is so unlike me to do something like this. I've made mistakes before, but most of them were because I didn't know what I was doing. This time, I knew exactly what I was walking into. I've faced Valentine before and gotten my butt kicked. For some reason I thought this time would be different. I've gotten a lot stronger in the last year, but still. I majorly miscalculated.”

“I've been there, kid,” Hercules said. “You train, you learn, you become stronger than you ever believed possible-- and then hubris kicks in. It's like a drug.”

“I guess I thought I was immune to it. I've never had great self-esteem,” Nico said.

“Valentine made an enemy of you. You got strong and tried to teach him a lesson about who he was messing with. Don't be too hard on yourself,” Hercules said. “This is good for your career in the long run. Our greatest triumphs come from our failures. Nobody understands that better than I do.”

“I believe you,” Nico said. “But I still feel really shitty right now.”

“I feel you,” Hercules said kindly.

Nico was huddled in the corner of the cell, still deep in gloom, when someone approached the door. His heart was pounding in fear when Valentine walked in.

“I brought the two of you a little treat,” Valentine said. “Here.”

He pulled out a bowl and splashed Hercules with holy water he flicked off his fingertips. Hercules screamed and writhed, shouting, “Gross! Stop! Ew!”

He splashed Nico, too, but it didn't hurt, and Nico had no reaction. Valentine stared at him.

“What?” Said Nico.

Valentine bit his lip.

“I want to punish you for what you did,” he told Nico. “But I'm conflicted.”

Nico raised his eyebrows.

“You could show me mercy again,” Nico said, “Like Thomas Aquinas said? Let me go and I'll promise never to bother you again!”

“I need to see a sign that you've actually learned from your mistake,” Valentine said. “You know what? I think I'll test you. Why don't you sit through mass with me this morning?”

“Don't do it, Nico, it's a trick,” Hercules said frantically.

“I'll go,” Nico said firmly. All things considered, Valentine had been pretty decent to him, and he'd tried to rob the guy three times. He knew he should look at the saint as his enemy, but he couldn't find it in himself to actually do it.

Nico followed Valentine out of the basement and into the church. They slid into the pew furthest back from the altar and waited for the service to start.

“Can't people see you?” Nico asked him.

“No, only you,” Valentine said. “Try not to make it look like you're talking to yourself. Just pretend to pray.”

“I'm talking to a saint,” Nico smirked, finding the situation slightly funny. “I'm already praying.”

They went through the entire mass without anything bad happening. He wasn't struck down by lightning, wasn't dragged to hell, and he actually found it relaxing and nostalgic. He thought about the old days when his Nonna would take him, Bianca, and their little cousin Gio to mass with her every Sunday. Gio would always try to crawl beneath the pews, and Bianca would try her hardest to ignore him, standing up straight and looking straight ahead like there wasn't a three year old untying her shoelaces. Nico always had to struggle to keep from laughing.

“Is something funny?” Valentine asked him.

“Just memories I'd forgotten,” Nico said. He was smiling still, unable to help himself. He hadn't known it at the time, but those days had been some of the happiest of his entire life. Before the war made them move to America, before Zeus killed his mother, before his father had stolen their memories and left him and Bianca alone in a strange place, empty shells of the happy children they'd once been, in order to spare them pain and keep them alive.

After mass ended and people filed out, Nico felt Valentine staring at him.

“You have goodwill towards us, in spite of the company you keep,” Valentine said. “I sensed it before, but it's obvious now.”

“Maybe,” Nico admitted. “But I have to try to keep it quiet. It won't go over well with my dad if he finds out.”

“Do you really need your father in your life that badly?” Valentine asked. “Does he offer you comfort in your suffering? Care for you when you're sick? Give you guidance when you're lost?”

“Yes,” Nico said immediately. “Or at least he tries. He's not perfect, but I'm not cutting him out of my life and converting, if that's what you're hinting at.”

“I don't expect you to do that,” Valentine said. “Today,” he added. “But he will let you down. They all will, mark my words. Inevitably, you will see their faults and seek something greater.”

“You guys aren't perfect either,” Nico said.

“I didn't say we were,” Valentine said. “But we're better than the alternative. Your Roman ancestors saw that. Someday, you will too. It's never too late.”

They were alone again in the church. Nico glanced back and saw that the doors had been closed and locked again after the mortals had left.

“Come with me,” Valentine said. “I want to show you something. I think it will help you to understand why I am taking a special interest in bringing you over to the winning side.”

Nico followed him up to the baptismal font. He looked inside. Everything seemed normal, but Valentine was watching him expectantly, like something was about to happen.

“What am I looking at?”

Valentine grabbed Nico's head and dunked it under the water. Nico took in a mouthful, and his vision went white.

Suddenly he was looking at a scene from above. He saw his mother and grandmother talking next to a different baptismal font in a different, but very familiar, church; the same church he and his cousins had attended with their Nonna in Venice. It was dark, lit only by a few candle on the altar.

“Maria, are you absolutely sure you want to do this?” His Nonna, Lola, was saying. She was in a formal dress with a veiled hat. She gripped her purse handle tightly between her fingers, her lips a thin line in her face.

“I'm sure,” Maria said. She looked younger than Nico remembered. She was wearing a black dress with a very eye catching necklace hanging around her neck. It was a string of blue diamonds the size of grapes, set in silver, each of them encircled with a ring of tiny white diamonds. She'd told Nico once that it had been a present from his father to celebrate his birth.

She held a bundle wrapped in white lace in her arms, and Nico saw his own tiny hand reach up and grab at her necklace. He was watching his own baptism, he realized.

The priest walked up to the two of them, his eyes nearly popping out of his head when he saw Maria's necklace.

“Did you tell anyone we were coming?” Lola asked him.

“No, I did as you instructed in your letter, but I would like to understand why all this secrecy is necessary,” he said. “I don't normally perform baptisms at midnight.”

“I told you, the baby's father doesn't approve,” Lola said. “I've tried to tell her it's not worth it, but she won't listen.”

Nico couldn't believe what he was hearing. For as long as he could remember, his Nonna had insisted on going to church every week, and bringing her grandchildren with her as much as possible. He'd never seen his mother attend even once. Why was Maria the one who wanted him baptised?

“Are you concerned at all that the father will retaliate?” The priest said. “I've heard the rumors about what he does for a living,” he added, giving Maria a dark look

“He won't find out,” she said. “Just hurry, please.”

The priest and Lola exchanged worried looks, but the priest bravely took Nico into his arms and proceeded with the ritual, speaking the words and dunking baby Nico into the water.

Afterward the priest and Lola stood to one side and had a long, drawn out conversation that Nico couldn't hear. While they spoke, Maria tried to calm baby Nico, who'd started crying the second he'd been separated from her, and still hadn't stopped. She walked with him around the church, showing him the colorful stained glass windows and trying to distract him.

One of the windows had a depiction of the sun, moon, and stars set in a beautiful indigo glass. Baby Nico stopped crying when he saw it. Maria took the opportunity to speak to him softly.

“You were very brave, little one,” she said. “Don't be angry with Mama, alright? I just want you to have every protection I can give you. Your papa says he will watch over us, but I worry it won't be enough.” She shifted him in her arms, looking up at the glass. “I've brought you into a very dark world, my son. I can't shield you from it forever, but I'll do what I can.”

She went back to her mother. The priest had left.

“I hope you're satisfied,” Lola said, sounding exasperated.

“I'd have preferred to dip him in the river Styx,” Maria said, “But I guess this will have to do.”

“I'm not in the mood for your jokes tonight,” Lola said.

“I wasn't joking,” Maria said, smirking. They walked out together.

Nico pulled his head out of the water.

“Did you see it?” Valentine asked.

“Yes,” Nico said, still stunned from what had just happened. “I had no idea my mother did that for me.”

“You see why I felt a slight measure of responsibility toward you,” Valentine said. “At least in regards to saving your eternal soul.”

“My soul is spoken for,” Nico said, picturing his mother in Elysium. “But that was interesting. Thank you for showing it to me.”

Valentine nodded.

“I would push harder for immediate conversion if I thought it was necessary,” Valentine said. “But I have experience with cases like yours. A friend of mine was like you once,” he said. “His mother was one of your types. When he could do something for her, of course, he had to hop to it immediately. But when he needed her most, she wasn't there,” he said darkly. “She let him down one too many times. Fortunately, in this vast and strange world that we live in, there is no shortage of mysteries. He found a better path, one that never let him down.”

Nico thought about how quickly Venus had hung up on them when Hercules had told her what church they were trapped in. It might be a coincidence, but then again...

“Mark my words, Nico di Angelo,” Valentine said. “Someday, they'll let you down too. And you'll be back.”

He waved a hand, and the golden seal that was on Nico's chest disappeared. It felt like he could finally breathe again.

“Thank you,” Nico said. “But...”

“I know you want to free him,” Valentine said. “I'll allow it, but I want you to swear to me on whatever it is you hold sacred that you'll never enter another church with intent to steal, or cause property damage, for as long as you live.”

“I swear on my mother's soul,” Nico said.

“There are an abundance of martyr remains in the world,” Valentine said. “A resourceful young man like you shouldn't have trouble finding some that don't belong to a sanctified place. Fortunately, I don't think they can be used to harm anyone, so I don't need to know why you need them.”

“Maybe I should think about getting them from a museum or something,” Nico said bashfully.

“Hmph,” Valentine said. “Go. Hurry, before I change my mind.”

Nico hurried down to the cell and opened the door, beckoning for Hercules to follow him out. Hercules pushed past him and made a run for it, jogging out into the sunlight in front of the church and running a victory lap, pumping his fists in the air.

“You did it!” He said triumphantly. “It feels so good to breathe non-denominational air again. How'd you pull it off?”

“We just talked for a while,” Nico said. “He let me go after I promised never to do it again.”

Hercules looked disappointed the answer hadn't been more interesting, but Nico couldn't tell him the details of their discussion. It felt too personal, and he needed time to process what it all meant.

“Wait, Hercules,” Nico said. “Your seal's still there. You need to ask him to remove it.”

Hercules pawed at his chest, trying to peel off the symbol, but it did no good. There was still a shining golden seal keeping his godly powers in check.

“I'm not going back in there for anything,” Hercules said.

“I'd try Isis,” Nico said. “She's used to dealing with interfaith issues.”

Hercules nodded.

“I'm not worried,” he said. “I've never met a challenge I couldn't handle.”

He seemed almost pleased to be left with something to work on overcoming. Nico thought he probably missed the challenges of his mortal life, at least a little.

Nico glanced around the square and realized he was totally, completely, and eternally sick of Rome. It was just too complicated, and there were way too many immortals lurking everywhere.

He dialed a number on his phone.

“Ariadne, are you busy? Would you be opposed to a visit?”

Chapter Text

Nico brought Hercules to Ariadne's villa in Tuscany, where she welcomed them both with open arms, insisting they stay and recover from their ordeal. She shooed them upstairs to shower and scrub off the holy water residue while Maenad servants hurried to prepare a lavish meal. A grand feast was laid out on a patio table beneath a grapevine arbor laden with overripe, flawless purple grapes.

Ariadne was at the large wooden table waiting when Nico and Hercules returned, freshly scrubbed. Selene was sitting with her, looking vacant and uninterested as usual.

Immediately Ariadne asked to hear their story. Nico let Hercules do most of the talking, because he framed what had happened as a grand adventure and greatly exaggerated the supposedly terrible things Valentine had done to them.

“He dragged Nico upstairs and forced him to sit through an entire Catholic mass,” Hercules said ominously.

Ariadne gasped.

“That sounds awful! Are you alright?” She asked.

“Obviously not,” Hercules said. “He's got a terrible, haunted look to his eyes, can't you tell?”

“He had that before,” Selene said.

Their meal stretched long into the night, filled with wine and dessert and interesting discussions, and as they relaxed they enjoyed a perfect sunset, the hills of Tuscany bathed in hues of pink, purple and gold.

“It's been good to see you again,” Ariadne said to Nico, drawing him aside to speak with her as she leaned on the balcony, gazing out over the vista. She had a large, overfull wine glass in her hand, and her cheeks were rosy, almost the same color as the wine. “I don't suppose you had a chance to go back to camp?”

“My father is opposed to the idea,” Nico said, not mentioning the fact that he was also against it. “But if I do end up there, I promise I'll check on him for you.”

“Thanks,” she said, swirling the wine in her glass, staring at it pensively. For just a moment, the golden sunlight shone on her, highlighting her profile, and he could see that she and her dad had the same nose. They also had the same mouth, shaped perfectly, and often smiling.

Nico's heart skipped a beat for a moment. He'd give anything to have Minos with him on this balcony instead of her, he thought secretly as he stared at her. Was his hopeless crush ever going to dissipate? It felt like he'd wanted Minos for ages and he'd still never done anything about it.

“Nico?”

“Hm?”

“I lost you for a bit,” she laughed. “For a second I thought you were going to try to kiss me.”

He turned red and turned away.

“Sorry, I was just zoning out,” he said. “I wouldn't do that.” Not to you, anyway, he thought to himself.

She shrugged.

“I know. I don't think you're the type,” she said, smiling with amusement and looking back out at the sunset. “I like your new ring, by the way.”

He looked down at the bone ring Minos had made for him, and ran his finger over it self-consciously.

“A friend gave it to me,” he said.

He changed the subject, asking her about the grape harvest, and they moved on from the weirdness. Nico would rather jump off the balcony than tell Ariadne he had a crush on her dead dad.

Isis came over the following day to help Hercules. She was happy to see Nico again, but she was very pushing about making him help remove the seal on Hercule's divine powers. Nico cautiously extricated himself from the obligation, saying he had a task for his father that couldn't wait, and he left Isis and Ariadne to work on seal removal alone.

He was dead set on finding martyr bones quickly. It took a full day of museum visits, online research, and some email exchanges that ended with people threatening to report him to the police, but he finally found an unscrupulous museum docent in Milan that he was able to cut a deal with.

“Have you got the stuff?” Nico asked, meeting the docent in the alley. The docent was a scrawny, studious looking man who didn't seemed at all fazed by the deal he was making.

“It sounds suspicious when you put it like that,” the docent said. “This isn't a movie. You ought to greet me like we're friends or something.”

“I just always wanted to say that,” Nico shrugged. “You sound like you've done this before.”

“Just take them,” the docent said, thrusting a brown paper package at Nico.

Nico unwrapped the bones, which were a set of five mismatched fingers. He took one out and licked it. He dug his thumbnail into the side of his index finger hard, trying to test the pain blocking properties of the bone.

“Not a martyr.” He handed the bone back to the alarmed docent and tried the next. He tasted the next one carefully, pressing his nail into his skin again. The harder he pressed, the more it felt like little pleasant tingles were being sent up his spine straight to his brain.

“This one's definitely a martyr,” he told the docent. “Nice work.”

The man just stared at him, horrified.

Nico tested the remaining bones carefully, but they weren't martyrs. He was satisfied he'd gotten one, at least. He handed the docent the cash and disappeared.

When he slipped back inside the house, it was quiet, except for the sound of chanting emanating from the basement, where Isis was presumably still working on Hercules.

As Nico continued forward, he heard another voice ring out.

“Okay,” Ariadne's voice echoed from the kitchen. Nico started up the stairs quickly, not wanting to eavesdrop on her conversation. “I know, but what else can you say at this point? You've tried everything,” she continued.

She must have been talking to Dionysus; she always had the same sad, angry, and frustrated tone whenever he came up in conversation.

“Nico's back; I've got to go. Love you. Bye.”

She stomped out of the kitchen, still holding her phone.

“I'm gonna steal you for a minute. I need to vent.”

Before Nico could respond, she grabbed his hand and dragged him outside.

There was a purple convertible parked on the gravel driveway in front of the villa. She hopped into the driver's seat, and Nico climbed in the passenger side, not daring to question her intentions when she was in this intense mood.

The second she turned the key in the engine, pop music started blasting. She put her foot on the gas, and they took off down the driveway and began speeding through the hills of Tuscany. Nico stopped looking at the spedometer once they hit 180 kilometers per hour.

“You good?” He shouted, after a few minutes of reckless driving. She'd turned the music up three times, and his ears were almost bleeding, not so much from the volume, but because he just hated pop music that much.

“No, I'm not good,” she shouted back. “Sorry about the music, but I don't want Zeus to hear what I'm about to say.” Her dark hair was whipping around her head like she was caught in a tornado, and in that moment, she looked as wild as a maenad in a frenzy.

“He's in Thailand with Ganymede right now,” Nico shouted back. “No guarantee, but I bet he's more distracted than usual.”

“Oh, good,” Ariadne said, turning the dial down slightly. “Because, fuck, I am so done with that jerk! I am this close to going to New York and rescuing Di myself,” she said, making a pinching gesture with her fingers that left her with only one hand on the wheel. They swerved slightly off the road, and Nico gripped the handle on the door for dear life.

“Are you not allowed to visit?”

“I've visited a couple of times when we begged Zeus to take pity on us, but now we're out of favors to cash in,” Ariadne said. “I've even offered to help him run the camp, but being separated is part of the punishment. What did I do wrong?” She asked, pointing at herself. They swerved again.

“What did Dionysus do wrong, is what I'm wondering,” Nico said, when he was brave enough to open his eyes and saw that they were still safely on the road.

“It's about some nymph or something, but it doesn't really matter. This isn't a punishment, it's a power play,” Ariadne said. “Di and Zeus have a complicated relationship. I've never understood it. All I know is, he never pulls this crap with Apollo!” She said, smacking the center console in exasperation.

“Does anyone in this pantheon not have a complicated relationship with Zeus?” Nico asked, watching the clouds drift over the green fields and the endless acres of grapevines flash by. It was hot and sunny and exposed, which wasn't usually his thing, but Tuscany was too pretty to complain about the weather. Though it would be prettier if it wasn't currently being obscured by a speed blur.

“You can say that again,” she snorted. “He was my grandfather before he became my father in law. I can't escape the guy.” Her face fell, and she finally slowed the car down as her eyes welled up with tears. “I can't stand that my husband is suffering and I can't help. He was there for me when I was at my lowest point. And now I'm letting him down when he needs me.”

“I'm sorry,” Nico said gently. “I'm sure he knows you'd be there if you could.”

She sighed heavily.

“When I was stranded on Naxos, I thought my life was over. Then Dionysus found me, and showed me that life was still worth living. I mean, really living,” she smirked. “But now, he's stranded on his Naxos. A desolate place where hope goes to die.”

“Long Island,” Nico said gravely.

Ariadne shuddered.

“The worst part is that I can't be there for him! What kind of a wife am I?”

“I don't know anything about being a wife, or a god,” Nico said. “But I do have a dad. We have our issues, and sometimes they can get really intense and complicated. I would never want someone else getting involved in our problems, no matter how well-meaning. It would just escalate things unnecessarily.”

She stared at him for a minute.

“You know, Di has told me a hundred times to quit meddling, but I was too caught up in my guilt about not being there to listen,” she said. “I assumed he was just trying to let me off the hook. But maybe there's stuff he and Zeus are working through that I don't understand. You'd think I'd have picked up on that, after what happened between me and my dad,” she sighed. “But I've always been stubborn in that way. If you tell me to sit down and shut up, I'm guaranteed to do the opposite. I get that from my mother,” she said grimly. “It's not always a good trait.”

“You became a goddess, though,” Nico said. “Obviously you did something right.”

“Obviously,” she grinned. “I was a badass demigod princess who got to marry a god. I did a lot of things right. But as a mortal, I didn't know what I had to look forward to. I often felt lonely and hopeless and unsure I was doing the right thing. It's probably why I trusted Theseus too much. I felt like I'd finally met someone who understood and respected me. And he did understand, but the respect part? Not so much.”

“He sounds like an idiot,” Nico said. “Typical son of Poseidon.”

She burst out laughing.

“Yeah, maybe a son of Hades would have been better,” she said. “You're a better listener, that's for sure. You're a very unusual type of demigod, Nico. I'm curious to see how your story will end. Maybe you'll become a god like me.”

“If I can be with my family in the Underworld for eternity, that's enough for me. Sometimes even that feels unattainable.”

“Well, I'm rooting for you,” Ariadne said. “So, do you want a turn driving?”

“Me? Drive this?” Nico asked, shocked. “I don't know how,” he admitted, although his hands were itching to take the wheel.

“Don't worry, it's easy!”

They switched seats, and Nico cautiously pressed on the gas with the very tip of his toe.

“Just gun it,” she said. “You'll figure it out.”

He nearly crashed multiple times, but Ariadne was able to grab the wheel at the last second and save them before anything terrible happened. She was completely relaxed, which Nico figured was a privilege of immortality. It was impossible to be anxious with her making jokes and singing along with the radio, so eventually he got the hang of it and managed to drive around the country lanes with relative ease.

“That was so much fun,” Nico said after he'd pulled back into the driveway.

“Take it for a spin anytime you like,” she said. “Or better yet, get your dad to buy you one and let's race. The maenads go crazy for that kind of thing. I have to keep giving them enrichment activities while Di is gone, or they'll set the house on fire. They've tried.”

“Thank you for teaching me,” Nico said. “You're awesome.”

“I like you, Nico,” she said, ruffling his hair. “You remind me of my sons when they were your age. Maybe you'll grow up to be a great mortal king like they were.”

“Do you miss them?” Nico asked.

“Sometimes,” she said. “But they lived great lives full of adventure and glory. I can't weep for that. And I still have their descendants to remember them by.”

“There must be a lot of those by now,” Nico said.

“Oh, yes,” Ariadne smiled. “Who knows, maybe you're one of them! Now come inside, it's pizza night.”

Nico could have stayed with Ariadne forever, but it wasn't meant to be. As soon as they went back inside the house, Isis called up from the basement asking for assistance ASAP. Ariadne and Nico both rushed down the stairs, but Nico immediately started hacking and coughing, his lungs burning like he was breathing pure acid.

Ariadne saw his struggle and nudged him back up the stairs, shutting the door behind him. He lay on the floor of the hallway, hacking up blood onto the tile and trying to catch his breath.

Two of the maenads, who had ignored him up until that point, stopped and looked at him.

“Are you good?” One of them asked, kicking him. He pulled himself up onto an elbow, wiping his face.

“Look,” the other maenad said, pointing at the bloodstain. It was still gold, looking just like ichor.

Nico wiped it up with his sleeve immediately, but they'd seen.

“It's a long story,” he said, as one of the maenads helped him up and into the kitchen, and the other got him a glass of water. “Don't tell anyone you saw that, please.”

The maenads exchanged a look, but he wasn't sure if they would obey. That wasn't their strong suit at the best of times.

Seeing that he was taken care of, they left him alone, heading back out into the vineyard to frolic, or whatever it was they did that made so much noise in the middle of the night. Nico sighed and finished his water, staring at the marble countertop and tracing the veins in the stone.

He waited for hours, but there was no sign of Ariadne, Isis, or Hercules coming back up from the basement yet, so he went to the living room to find a book to read.

Semele was already occupying the couch, so he walked past her quietly and went to the bookshelf. It turned out Dionysus and Ariadne weren't big readers, which he probably should have guessed. There were plenty of books, but most of them were about wine. He took a copy of the Dionysiaca off the shelf.

“Can I sit with you?” He asked Semele. She gestured at the opposite side of the very large couch, and he took a seat.

Reading about Dionysus's many daring exploits made him feel self-conscious about his own laziness as a hero, and he shut the book not long after opening it, choosing instead to check out the show Semele was watching. It was a Greek drama about a forbidden romance in a small Cretan village.

“What is this called?” Nico asked Semele.

“Sasmos,” she said.

“Do you watch a lot of TV?”

She nodded.

“I've watched this twice already,” she told Nico. “It's safe.”

“Safe?” He was pleasantly surprised to hear her opening up. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean it's not about robots and space ships,” she said. “The characters live in normal houses and not metal skyscrapers. I can cope with the modern world when I have to,” she said. “But I get overwhelmed. This feels safe to me.”

“I see,” Nico said.

“I've been thinking about you and your quest,” she said, pausing the show and turning to look at Nico. “Since you're here, maybe the fates have decided we need to have this conversation.”

“What conversation?”

“The one where I tell you not to resurrect your sister.”

Nico was stunned into silence for a moment.

“I don't recall asking for your opinion,” Nico finally snapped.

“I'm speaking on her behalf,” Semele shrugged. “I simply don't think she will want to come back to life.”

“You don't know her.” Deep down he knew Semele had good intentions, and that his own doubts were making him scared and angry. But his hurt feelings drowned out the wiser part of him. “You have no idea what you're talking about. She wants it.”

“Go ahead and get defensive. It won't change the fact that I'm right.”

“You're wrong,” Nico said firmly.

“You're the son of Hades. You should know that death is final,” she said. “Do you think it feels good to defy nature? It doesn't. It feels wrong. Like a stain that won't wash out.”

“You're ungrateful,” Nico said. “Do you know how hard it is to resurrect someone? Dionysus loved you. He did something impossible for you. How can you have the nerve to complain about it?”

“He didn't love me; he didn't even know me,” she said. “And he didn't ask me what I wanted. He was much like his father in that way,” she said bitterly.

“So you resent him?” Nico said.

“I've forgiven him,” she said. “I had to. And now, I get by,” she said. “But I don't want to be here. I was at peace. I'm not sure I'll ever find that again.”

“You live in one of the most beautiful places on earth,” Nico said. “You have everything you could ever want at your fingertips. If you can't find a way to be happy here, that's your problem.”

“I know that,” she said. “I was never a happy young woman. I always found life hard. But death solved that problem, and my son unsolved it,” she said. “That's the problem. And I think you know that.”

“You have some serious issues,” Nico said. “Don't project them onto my sister. She's not like you. She'll be happy to be resurrected.”

“I can see I won't change your mind,” Semele said, turning her show back on. “Just do me a favor. Ask her what she wants before you do something to her that can't be undone.”

That was just unfair. Nico would have loved to ask Bianca what she wanted, but she was making it impossible. He shook his head, tossing the book on the table, and stormed out of the room without another word.

Nico shadow traveled directly to the manticore's den, still fuming. He needed to take his anger out on something, and the manticore was an old enemy. It was also one of the obstacles standing between him and Bianca.

He stood a few hundred yards from where the pit lay, where he could see the beast pacing. He fought the urge to become invisible using his earrings. He wouldn't do this on easy mode. He needed to practice his other skills and grow in confidence as a demigod. Semele had rattled him, and he needed the reassurance that, by some measure, he had his life together.

Still, he wasn't going to be foolish about it. He evaluated the layout of the pit. The side closest to him was a shallow slide into the smelly hole in the ground, where he'd fallen in last time. The far side was a small cliff overhanging the pit, casting its far side in shadow.

He had an idea.

He shadow traveled into the far side of the pit, stepping out of the shadow under the overhang. He stomped on the ground.

“Remember me?” He called out. “Come say hi. Your favorite student's come back for a visit.”

The manticore saw him and charged right at him, jaws opening in a roar, showing off long fangs dripping with gore. Nico shadow traveled out of the way just before the manticore slammed into the earth of the far side.

Rocks and chunks of dirt rained down on top of it. Nico encouraged a good sized boulder to break loose and clunk the massive beast on the back. He was aiming for the head, but the manticore was agile, and had turned to escape before the boulder could plop out. It whacked him on the butt instead, causing the manticore to shriek in incoherent rage.

When it tried to escape the falling earth, the manticore slammed into a wall of hardened shadow at the far side and found itself trapped under the overhang of earth, which was growing at Nico's command. The cliff curled overtop of the beast like the curve of a large ocean wave, and the shadow on the far side grew smaller as the space for the manticore got more and more cramped.

When he was done, the pit had been transformed into an earthen cage. The majority of the pit was surrounded by earth and stone, and Nico hardened it, reinforcing the barrier so that the beast couldn't escape even with its impressive strength. He left a wall of shadow at the edge as a window so that he could still see it.

The manticore ran around the tiny enclosure frantically, throwing itself against the walls over and over, howling its frustration. Nico smiled when he saw that the percussion of the beast's body against the earth merely hardened the wall with each bodyslam. Eventually, though, the entertainment factor began to wear off. The longer he watched the manticore formerly known as Mr. Dodds, the more it became obvious to him that the manticore had reformed this time as a beast of far less intelligence than it had possessed the last time. It didn't seem to have the same level of human cunning, and it definitely didn't seem able to communicate verbally.

It reminded him of an animal, and watching a trapped animal made him sad. It had been different with the dragons. One, he hadn't been able to see, and the other had been trying to kill him. And Artemis had been watching, and he'd felt the pressure of trying to impress her. This time, his choices were all on him.

He'd been prepared to put the beast to sleep using a spell and steal the spines, leaving it to starve to death in this pit. Could manticores starve? He didn't know. But watching it, suddenly the cruelty felt petty and unnecessary. Maybe Mr. Dodds had deserved it, but this wasn't Mr. Dodds anymore.

He watched it for a while longer, appreciating what he'd accomplished, and he snapped a picture on his phone as proof. Then he raised his hand and chanted the words in ancient Greek that Hecate had taught him, and watched as the manticore yawned, laid down, and closed its eyes, falling deeply asleep.

He removed the shadow wall and walked into the pit, approaching the tail. He stopped short.

There were no poison spines. In fact, there was no tail on this beast at all. It looked like it had been hacked off with a sword, and now there was just a nub oozing gore.

He felt so stupid. How had he not seen that? That should have been the first thing he'd looked for and he'd totally missed it. He'd noticed it out of the corner of his eye, but he'd been so focused on his stupid earthwork enclosure project that it hadn't registered in his mind that the tail was gone.

He looked around the pit and couldn't find a single spine. This was absolutely ridiculous. What was he going to do?

Enraged at his own stupidity, and also at whoever had cut off the tail and left the beast without its most valuable bits, he began pacing around the pit just as the manticore had been a few minutes ago. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

He hated to think of having to go back to his father empty handed. He couldn't face his father, or Minos, or Hecate, without the spines. They'd trained him so diligently, and he'd taken so long to get even this far.

There was only one thing he could think to do that might take the edge off his failure. He straddled the manticore's head, yanked it back, and invoked Hades, dedicating the life of the manticore to his father. He slit its throat in one clean slice using his Stygian blade, and the blood poured out like a flood, soaking his new, clean shirt. Great, he thought. The outfit had been designer, one of Persephone's gifts. Now he was a failure that also looked like an expensive, bloody mess.

Because he'd dedicated it to a god, the body didn't dissolve into dust like it would have otherwise. He grabbed the head and heaved it up into his arms. It was heavy and awkwardly shaped, and smelled disgusting, but maybe his dad would like that about it. If he didn't want it, Hecate could have it for a potion. Or maybe Cerberus would eat it. He knew it wouldn't go to waste in the Underworld, so he was taking it.

He tossed the head out of the pit and crawled out. He turned around and chanted the fire spell, and the body began smoldering in a red-orange glow. It smelled kind of delicious.

Nico sat beside the head and stared, watching as the body slowly cooked into nothing.

“What am I gonna do?” He muttered, glancing at the head. “You're cool, I guess, but you're not on my list.”

The manticore head didn't respond, just stared up at him with glassy dead eyes.

Nico wasn't ready to give up. Someone had stolen that tail. Who could it have been?

“I found it,” someone called out in the distance. Nico's head shot up. Someone was here. Of course! The tail stump hadn't healed, it was still oozing. Of course the wound had been fresh. The tail thief was still around!

Nico decided that direct confrontation was the best way forward. The voice sounded young, and he had a very hopeful feeling that the tail thief was a camper from Camp Half Blood. He could definitely take the tail from a bunch of dumbass campers, no problem.

“The smoke is coming from the manticore!” someone's voice called out. A young girl of about twelve ran to the edge of the pit and stopped short when she saw Nico.

She was short with curly red hair, pale skin, and freckles. Her eyes widened, and Nico saw that they were a very familiar spinach green color. She reminded him of someone, but he couldn't place her.

“Who-- Who are you?” She stammered, grabbing a knife from her belt and holding it in front of her.

Nico stood.

“Relax,” he said calmly. “I'm not going to hurt you.”

The girl didn't relax. Nico, in a moment of self awareness, realized he was covered in blood with a severed head beside him.

The girl's eyes flicked between him, the manticore head, and the pit.

“What happened here?” She asked. “How did you do this?”

“I have ways,” he shrugged. “It doesn't matter. I need this guy's tail, and I think you have it.”

The girl paled even further, her eyes widening.

“Annabeth!” She yelled, panic in her voice.

Nico gritted his teeth and hissed. Anyone else would have been better than Annabeth. He didn't know her all that well, but from what little he'd heard, she was one of the most stubborn and brilliant demigods alive. It would not be easy to take a war prize from her if she didn't feel like cooperating.

Annabeth ran up to where the girl was, stopping wisely at a safe distance from Nico.

She was taller than he remembered, and prettier, too, her dark skin gleaming flawlessly in the sun . She stood confidently, without any of the teenage awkwardness she'd had the last time he'd seen her. Her braids were coiled into a bun on top of her head that made her look regal and mature. Her gray eyes flashed brightly at him, and her gaze held a terrifying intelligence that made him feel like he might as well give up now.

“He says he wants the tail,” the redheaded girl said, her voice wavering.

“Niamh, go back to the others,” Annabeth said, not taking her eyes off of Nico for a millisecond. “I'll handle this.”

Chapter Text

Nico and Annabeth faced each other alone.
He didn't want to be interrogated or dragged back to camp, but he couldn't blame her for having questions. Nico had run away many years ago and hadn't been in touch with Chiron, Percy, or any other campers since. The only one from that old crowd he'd spoken to had been Thalia. Maybe she'd told Annabeth about him?
“My name is Annabeth,” Annabeth said, speaking confidently and clearly, her hand resting cautiously on the knife at her belt. She made no move to shake his hand. “What's yours?”
A wave of relief washed over him. Thalia hadn't told her, and she didn't recognize him. That made things so much easier. Maybe they could get this over with quickly, with no drama necessary.
“My name isn't important,” he said calmly. “You have something I want. I'd like to make a deal with you.”
“The manticore tail,” she said. “Yes, I have it. What do you want it for?”
“I actually don't want the tail itself,” he said, trying to smile in a neutral, non-threatening way. Based on her expression, it didn't really work, so he gave up and frowned the way he normally did. “I want the spines along the edges, assuming there are some left. I don't need all of them. We can split them. I'm prepared to give you my prize in exchange,” he said, gesturing at the severed head. “You'd go home with two big war prizes and I'd have what I need. Does that sound fair to you?”
“No,” she said.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” She stared him down. “No.”
Nico's frown became a glare.
“I think my offer was more than fair,” he said. “Generous, even.”
“That's a matter of opinion,” she said. “Here's my counteroffer. You leave. Now. Take it or leave it.”
Her reputation for stubbornness was very deserved, but he didn't intend to let her push him around.
“On what basis are you ordering me to go?” He said. “I haven't done anything wrong. In fact, I rid the world of this nasty monster over here,” he gestured at the now empty pit. “Which is objectively a good thing to do. Heroic, even,” he added. “And something you clearly failed at. You just took the tail and left him to murder more innocent people. I mean, look at this,” he said, hopping down into the pit and grabbing something he'd noticed sticking out of the dirt earlier. “This is a human femur. The manticore was a menace to the good people of Bar Harbor. Were you just going to leave it?”
“We removed its most dangerous part,” she said.
“No you didn't!” He said, shaking the femur at her. “The spines' poison isn't deadly. Those teeth, on the other hand,” he pointed at the head. “Lethal.”
She tried to hide it, but he could tell she had been under the impression that the spines were, in fact, deadly, and he'd piqued her interest.
“Maybe you're right,” she said. “And maybe you're full of shit. I don't know you, and I don't trust you. I've got no desire to make a deal with you, so you might as well move along.”
“I'll prove it to you,” he offered. “I'll stab myself with one of the spines. If I live, I'm telling the truth. If I die, I'm not your problem anymore. Either way, you learn something.”
She thought about it for a minute, and he knew he'd gotten her number.
“I've encountered the manticore before, and its spines weren't dangerous back then, just painful,” she said. “But I was told by someone I trust that after the beast reformed, it became less intelligent and more deadly. They were certain the spines could kill. If they were lying, I need to know so that I can find out why.”
“So we have a deal?'
“Yes. If you're willing to be a guinea pig, I'll use you,” she said. “Come on. It's this way. But don't try anything funny.”
Nico followed her back to where her group had set up a temporary campsite about a quarter of a mile away in the woods. He carried the manticore head along with him.
As they walked, Nico saw something extremely interesting on her backside. Specifically, a hat. It was a blue Yankees cap, just as he remembered, and it was hanging from a carabiner on her belt loop.
He had to destroy it as his father had asked. Deciding how to go about it was tricky. He thought that it might be easier once she let her guard down after he proved he wasn't lying. He could always turn invisible and snatch it, but he'd rather do that after he'd gotten what he needed from her.
“I noticed you burned the rest of the carcass,” she said, looking back over her shoulder. “Why?”
“A holocaust for my patron god,” he said. “Why else would I bother?”
She chewed the inside of her mouth for a second, her eyes flicking to the beast's head, and he knew exactly what she was going to ask.
“If you offer the monster as a sacrifice to a god before you kill it, you consecrate the death. If it's a significant enough monster, it won't dissolve for a long time. That gives you time to harvest it for parts and use them,” he said. “I could have just killed it and let it disappear, but then none of us would have bits to play around with.”
“Where did you learn that?”
“What, Camp didn't teach you about it?”
She flipped him her middle finger. He snorted.
“Classy,” he said. He was weirdly fascinated by her, he realized. He'd felt sort of neutral towards her based on his first impression years ago, but she was older and much more accomplished now. She'd played a large part in defeating Kronos, from what he'd heard, and her vibes were powerful, confident, and intelligent. He would have liked to be able to get to know her better.
It was a shame that it wouldn't be possible. He didn't want to get involved with anything to do with Camp Half Blood, and he couldn't trust a daughter of Athena.
There weren't many other campers with her, only five, most of them younger teens. Niamh appeared to be the youngest. There were three boys who looked like typical Hermes kids and an Aphrodite girl with a snotty look on her face. There was a ring of orange tents set up, and a small campfire had been built in the center.
Nico went right up to the manticore's tail and reached for a spine.
“Wait,” Annabeth said, grabbing him by the shoulder. “Do it where I can watch you. No funny business. Go stand over there and I'll bring you one.”
He would have cursed her for outsmarting him, but he was kind of happy about it. He'd decided as soon as he saw the tail that the best course of action was to shadow travel away with the entire thing, but he was tempted not to go the easy route for the sake of getting more intel on the hat. Now she made him stand a few feet back from the tail while she wrapped her hand in a bandana and ripped out a spine, careful to keep the tip away from her skin.
“Hold out your hand,” she said. He obeyed. She took the spine and looked him in the eye. “Ready?”
“Go ahead,” he said mildly. He'd been stung by a dozen of them at once before, so one didn't worry him in the slightest. It was sort of funny to see her taking it so seriously.
She nodded gravely, then stabbed him in the palm. He stood there, watching her calmly, feeling the wave of pain throbbing in his hand and radiating up to his shoulder.
“Oh my god, he's gonna die!” A Hermes boy shouted.
“I'm fine,” Nico said, shaking his hand to encourage the poison to dissipate. He rubbed the tiny pinprick wound with his thumb, making sure to smear the blood away so she wouldn't see the golden color. “It's just pain. It's already fading. Are we done?”
“Let's give it a couple minutes to be sure,” she said, examining the spine in her hand. “But... Um... Yeah. It looks like you might have been right. Potentially. Do you want some water?” She asked, smiling at him.
“Sure, I guess,” he said, surprised at her change in demeanor. “Thanks.”
She called out for some water, and the Aphrodite girl got them both unopened water bottles from a cooler. She handed one to each of them.
“Nice to meet you,” she said, leaning down to hand Nico his water. She leaned down way further than necessary to ensure he had a really good angle to look down her shirt. Nico didn't have the heart to tell her she was wasting her time.
“Thanks, Drew,” Annabeth said firmly. “You can go away now.
Annabeth twisted the cap off of her water and held it out to him for a toast. He humored her, tapping his water to the side of hers.
“Saluti,” she said, smirking at him.
“Sa--” He stopped. “Annabeth,” he said, his tone warning her.
“Problem, Nico?”
Of course she knew. He'd been naive to think she wouldn't guess. She was one of the smartest people in modern Greco-Roman America.
“You recognized me,” he said, frowning. “You could have just said so.”
“Actually, I didn't recognize you at all,” she said. “Nico di Angelo should be roughly fourteen. You look like you're in college. That shouldn't be possible. But I knew you were most likely in the Underworld these past few years, and time can work differently there, so I realized that, in fact, anything was possible. At least I didn't have enough info to confirm otherwise.” She took a sip of her water, looking smug. She had Nico fixed in her bright and disconcerting gaze. “I didn't know for certain until you started arguing with me, and I picked up on a habit of yours that I'd noticed the last time we met. I don't think you realize how much you talk with your hands.”
Nico just stared at her in silence for a second. That was such a dumb reason to be figured out. He wasn't even consciously aware of his hand movements when he spoke, but it must have made an impression on her.
“I see,” he said slowly. “I'm not the only person that does that,” he added defensively.
“I considered that possibility. A lot of the immortals gesture like that too; it's typical of the wider Mediterranean region. I had to take into account, however, the fact that you're here in Bar Harbor; a place that held significance to you and your sister. And you killed the manticore, which was the first monster you had ever seen. The conclusion that you were Nico di Angelo was obvious. Too obvious, in fact. I'll admit the gorgon imagery on your shirt gave me pause. I thought maybe my mom was your patron and you were sent to test me. She does stuff like that sometimes. I thought a t-shirt was too obvious for her. But then again, maybe she'd want me to think that, and it was all part of the test.”
“My shirt?” Nico could barely remember what it had looked like before he'd gotten it soaked in blood. “The Medusa head. The gorgoneion. Symbol of Athena?” Annabeth said.
He looked down at his shirt, then back up at her.
“You got me. I work for your mom,” he said, deadpan.
“What? Really?” Annabeth's grey eyes went wide in disbelief.
He started laughing.
“What's so funny?” She asked.
The daughter of Aphrodite, Drew, who'd been listening to their conversation along with the other campers, rolled her eyes.
“Girl,” she said. “Get it together. That's the Versace logo.”
When Nico saw Annabeth's face, he started laughing even harder. Annabeth looked shocked, then confused, then embarrassed.
“Okay,” she said, blushing. “I'll admit, I didn't know that. I haven't had a lot of opportunities to wear designer, alright?”
“You should try it,” Drew said. “You dress like crap.”
“I'm not flush with cash at the moment,” Annabeth muttered. “We can't all be children of the god of wealth.”
“Wait, what?” Drew said. The other campers went silent, staring at Nico. “Wait, what?!” She said, even louder and more shrill the second time. “That's Hades, isn't it?”
All the campers started talking at the same time, except for one, who no one had yet noticed was missing.
Suddenly, a shriek sounded in the air.
“Niamh?” Annabeth said, jumping to her feet. Everyone looked at where Niamh had gone.
She was standing next to the manticore tail with a spine stuck in her hand.
“Ow,” Niamh whimpered.
“It'll wear off in a second,” Nico said. He stood. He'd seen the horrified looks on everyone's faces, and he didn't care to sit around being stared at any longer. He had other places to be.
He went over to the tail and started plucking spines off, ignoring the campers talking behind him, asking Annabeth questions like, “Who is he? Where did he come from?” and “Is he one of the ones who fought for Kronos?” Nico rolled his eyes. He'd slept through the Kronos debacle, and they were making negative assumptions based on nothing. The sooner he got away from the campers and their ignorant opinions, the better.
Niamh was sniffling in pain nearby, but he ignored her, too focused on the delicate task of collecting spines without hurting himself to pay attention. He was just coming to the realization that he was going to need a plastic bag or something to put all the spines in when Niamh collapsed on the ground.
“Niamh?” Annabeth said, hurrying to her side and examining her. Niamh's face had swollen up and it looked like she was struggling to breathe. “Nico, what the fuck, this stuff is dangerous! You lied to me!” Annabeth shouted.
“I didn't lie,” Nico said, but Annabeth stood and marched toward him, rage in her eyes. Her hand flashed at her side, and before he could blink, she had her knife at his throat and a hand wrapped around his shirt fabric.
She was no stranger to violence or confrontation. He could tell from her posture and demeanor that she was a warrior, already planning a thousand strategies to disarm him if he attempted to escalate.
“You lied,” she said coldly. “That's one thing. But nobody fucks with my campers,” she emphasized slowly. “You've made a grave mistake.”
He was totally unconcerned, and he could see that his lack of reaction disturbed her. She pressed the blade of the knife harder against his throat until it stung.
It crossed his mind that it might be a very easy way to go. It might even hurt less than the manticore poison. Bleeding out would leave him physically whole enough to finish his chores and get off the no ride list. He could join his mother, and drop the whole Bianca thing entirely.
But he couldn't do that. He wanted Bianca back, right? Why was he relieved at getting out of it?
He couldn't die today. He had too many obligations. More importantly, he had a feeling Annabeth wasn't serious about killing him. There was too much about him she didn't know. She'd never leave that many questions unanswered.
He became incorporeal and let her lose her balance, stepping forward and through him with a look of pure horror. She was smart enough to recalculate quickly, and she did, but not in time to stop him from getting far enough away to shadow travel well out of reach.
“I didn't lie. Look at her,” he said, pointing at Niamh were she was lying on the ground. “Does that look like poisoning to you?”
Annabeth quickly knelt beside Niamh and listened to her breathing. It sounded like she was sucking air through a straw, and her face and lips were swollen and turning blue.
“It does resemble anaphylaxis,” Annabeth said hesitantly. “But that might be intentional. I think you took an antidote before I stabbed you.”
She glanced down at her knife, then looked back up at him.
“I never needed your permission to take those spines,” Nico told her, deciding frankness was his best option. “I could have taken them anytime I wanted. Is this how you repay my gesture of respect? Distrust and accusations?”
Drew shoved a chunk of ambrosia into Niamh's mouth, and it seemed to help her breathe a little, but after a few seconds, she got worse again.
“I'm not being disrespectful, I'm being cautious,” Annabeth said. “Niamh is a daughter of Hecate. You may have been sent to kill her on some sordid Underworld business.”
“Cthonic gods don't treat each other like shit, unlike Olympians,” Nico said angrily.
“We can't give her much more ambrosia,” Drew said. “She's getting warm. It could kill her.”
“Keep trying. I knew we should have brought an Apollo kid. No one has an epi-pen in a med bag? There's supposed to be one! Look again, all of you.” She called out over her shoulder. She turned back to Nico. “Look, I don't know you, and I don't know who you might work for. Trust is earned, and you don't have mine. I'm not taking any chances.” She stood and pulled out a silver cell phone. “I'm calling her an ambulance, and then I'm taking you back to Camp,” she said to Nico. “You can prove your innocence there.”
“You've got to be kidding,” Nico said, mildly amused. “I'm not letting you kidnap me. Obviously you've been voted camp counselor of the month one too many times and it's gone to your head.”
Annabeth started dialing 911, even though there was no way an ambulance would get there in time. They weren't far from the road, but they were in too remote an area.
She kept looking at him while she spoke to emergency services. She looked at his hands, his waist, searching him for weapons. She even glanced at his rings, correctly guessing that they were more than met the eye; at least one of them was. He'd basically just teleported in front of her a few seconds ago, not to mention turned incorporeal. She wasn't dumb enough to be under the impression she could take him back to camp against his will; she was just saying that to sound in control. She must have been very scared, both of him, and for Niamh. She was just good at hiding how she felt.